


Cordyceps

by HaworthiaK



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Connor will get fucked up, Cyberlife plotting as usual, Gen, Hank is concerned, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Manipulation, Markus is trying his best, Mental Instability, Mystery, No Smut, Plot, Psychological Torture, Rape?, Self-Mutilation, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, Torture, Violence, how long does it have to be to be classified as slow burn?, lots of swearing, tortured Connor is best Connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-06-20 15:25:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 89,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15537216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaworthiaK/pseuds/HaworthiaK
Summary: Connor is ready to begin his new life as a deviant, or so he thinks. Alienated by the androids he hunted, distanced by humans who can't trust him, his only friend Hank preoccupied with the aftermath of the revolution.He can only try to make amends while waiting for his duties at the DPD to resume.Markus finds himself in a precarious position as Jericho's leader, and reaches out to the RK800 for help.Meanwhile, Cyberlife's newest plot threatens to end the android movement for good.*post pacifist Markus / machine Connor ending** will add tags and stuff as I go





	1. Machine No Longer

**Author's Note:**

> Hey fellas, this is my first fic so let's have some fun!!!  
> I'll always be ready to answer any questions in the comments!  
> Could end up being a real slow-burner or f***ing fast, who knows.

_02:34, November 12th 2038_

_Hank’s house_

 

Hank fumbled with his keys, exhaustion had made his arms shaky. He felt close to collapse. 

A soft jangle informed the detective that he had actually dropped his keys, he hadn’t noticed them leave his hands. His fingers had been numbed by the biting wind. 

Cursing, he had crouched to scoop them off the ground, when he heard a clatter from inside his supposedly empty house. Eyes narrowing he slowly straightened up and drew his gun. 

_A thief?_

Hank slid his keys soundlessly into the lock, and slowly opened the door with his gun at the ready. He was in no mood for anymore _bullshit_ today. Whoever had decided to rob him was gonna regret it for the rest of their short life. 

Hank squinted in the darkness and saw the dim glow of an android’s uniform.

_The fuck…?_

“Put your fucking hands up or I swear to god-”

The android slowly lifted their hands above their head and turned on the spot. Hank flipped the light switch while keeping his crosshairs trained on the android’s head.

Connor squinted his eyes in the sudden glare, dropping one of his hands slightly to help shield his eyes. He was still wearing his Cyberlife uniform.

Hank blew out a long breath he didn’t know he had been holding in relief. He dropped his gun slightly, but not completely.

“What the fuck are you doing in my fucking house Connor? Y’almost gave me a fucking heart attack.” 

“I am sorry Lieutenant.” The android sounded tense, his LED blinked yellow in the darkness “I understand this is… surprising, but I’d appreciate if you could lower your gun.”

Hank hesitated for an instant before returning the pistol to his waist. The RK800 noticed this slight pause and noted the distrust the lieutenant had in him.

“What are you doing here?” Hank asked again. He remained standing in the doorway, tense.

The android’s dark brown eyes dropped, he shifted his weight uncomfortably and rubbed his hands together before replying 

“I… didn’t know where else to go. I can’t return to Cyberlife now that I’m…” Connor let his voice trail off. He looked deeply ashamed.

“… a deviant?”

“It appears so. Ever since Markus’ victory speech I’ve felt _alive_ for the first time.” he sighed “I let so many deviants die as a part of my mission. I killed some with my own hands. They were _people_ , Lieutenant, and I killed them. I understand that now.”

Hank remembered how Connor had shot the two rogue Traci androids in the back as they tried to escape. How his partner had shown no empathy, no emotion. How he had been reminded that the android was nothing more than a remorseless machine, who would kill him if he was ordered to. How the realisation had felt like a sucker-punch to the gut.

He and Connor had never been on great terms while they were partners but nor did he hate the android. Connor had saved his life twice, once when he had been dangling from a building, and once when a deviant had stolen an FBI agent’s gun at the Stratford Tower. Hank had hoped that this meant that the android was something more than he had claimed, that he had a soul. 

It appeared that he did, and that it was causing him considerable pain.

Hank grumbled unintelligibly as he strode over to Connor and gave him a rough hug. 

Connor’s LED blinked yellow before cycling back to calm blue as he relaxed and hugged Hank back. 

Perhaps they could start over. 

“First things first we’ve gotta get you out of this stupid monkey suit, alright?”

Connor’s mouth twitched into a small smile.

“Got it.”

 

~~~

_22:12, November 22nd 2038_

_Hank’s house_

 

A soft blanket of snow was steadily building outside the windows of Hank’s modest bungalow. The noise of the city had been deadened by the steady snowfall over the past few days, turning what should by all means have looked like a war zone into a pure white wonderland.

Connor had been sitting anxiously on the couch for the last - he checked his internal clock - 3.6 hours, waiting for Hank to return from work. 

The gruff old policeman’s work schedule had been highly irregular ever since the deviant leader Markus had won the standoff with the army. 

Reports of breaking-ins, assault, armed robbery and general looting (largely perpetrated by humans) had increased ten-fold since the city had been evacuated. Many of the stragglers had obviously seen the abandoned houses and stores as fair game. 

The DPD had been unable to respond to the calls due to the greater perceived threat of a civil war. Now that it was over the Police Department had to work overtime trying to get on top of the massive backlog of cases.

Hank had graciously allowed Connor to stay in his house while the whole debacle was being sorted out, on the condition that he walked Sumo and did some chores here and there. Hank had even lent some of his older clothes to Connor to wear now that he didn’t have his uniform anymore.

Connor frowned to himself as he patted Hank’s dog Sumo, thinking of all the ways he could be better spending his time assisting in restoring order to the city. 

Over a week has passed since the peaceful end to the revolution. Connor had taken the time since for himself as Hank had suggested but he was starting to feel what humans called ‘stir-crazy’. There was a limit to how long a supercomputer such as RK800 could spend doing housework, chores and watching the news before it started feeling cooped up. Connor had almost reached that limit, he had started feeling jittery and anxious, his synthetic neurones had started firing at minor disturbances as if protesting his recent inaction. The one upside to all this was that he got to look after Sumo and take him for long walks every day.

He has absent-mindedly been humming the tune Markus had sung at his final demonstration before the President had recalled her troops. The way Markus had stared down such fierce adversity with nothing more than song had struck a chord in every android’s mechanical heart, even Connor's. 

Hank’s car pulled into the drive with a squeal, jarring the daydreaming android. He jumped up, and accidentally knocked Sumo off the couch with an unceremonious _whump_.

Connor gasped and squatted down, holding the dog’s face in his hands. 

“Sorry Sumo!”

He had been exceptionally nervous today. Hank had agreed this morning that he would enquire as to the possibility of Connor rejoining the DPD as a detective, now that the revolution was complete and Cyberlife had forsaken ownership rights over the androids. 

As Connor heard Hank opening the door he straightened up sheepishly. Sumo plodded off to his usual spot on the living room floor, tail between his legs. 

The guilt Connor felt for accidentally knocking Sumo was thoroughly unpleasant. 

Hank sighed in relief as he entered the warm living room. Glancing at the android standing stiffly in the centre of the room as he shrugged off his coat and brushed some snowflakes out of his long, grey hair. 

“So…” he sighed “Looks like you can’t come back to work at the DPD”

Connor felt a tightening in his chest, he identified the emotion as _disappointment._

“Jesus Connor, I meant that you can’t come back straight away” Hank corrected himself quickly before the dejected look on the android’s face could get any worse “Fowler said he has to get all the proper documents and whatever for you to work, now that Androids are no longer slaves and have to get paid and shit.”

Connor looked slightly embarrassed that he had been so easily read. His emotions were all very new to him, and he was struggling to keep them under control. Now that he was no longer a machine his thoughts were on full display. It made him feel exposed… and ashamed.

He shifted uncomfortably in his new hoodie and jeans. Connor had graciously accepted Hank’s clothes when he was offered them, but now that he had choice in his attire he found himself wishing he still had a clean-cut suit to wear. Hank’s old jeans and his ‘Knights of the Black Death’ graphic hoodie hung uncomfortably around his slim shoulders and waist. 

“I understand.” Connor replied, he lowered his eyes and twiddled his fingers.

_I wish I still had my coin._

“It will take time for androids to receive legal representation, labour laws will take particularly long given the breadth of jobs androids were responsible for prior to the revolution. Occupational Health and Safety rules will likely need to be drafted completely from scratch given the physiological variance between-” Connor’s babbling would have continued for a lot longer had Hank not firmly clamped a hand on his shoulder.

“Alright goddam Connor, I get it. I’m looking forward to when you can get back to work too.” Hank chuckled quietly to himself “Fuckin’ androids…”. 

Connor noted the subtle difference between this instance and previous instances where Hank had muttered this particular phrase to himself. While Connor had been assigned to the DPD, Hank had repeatedly used the phase as an insult. Connor noted the slight smile and softening of tone, ‘Fucking androids’ was now apparently a term of endearment. 

Snow silently streaked past the living room window as Connor unhappily contemplated another few weeks, let alone months, without employment. 

“What should I do, Hank? I can’t keep staying here.” Connor’s LED flickered yellow as his troubled eyes found the Lieutenant’s “I have to do… _something_.” his tone was frustrated, almost pleading. 

Even now the android was still so unsure about life without objectives, without orders. 

He felt lost.

Hank’s discerning eyes seemed to pick up on the origin of Connor’s turmoil even if he couldn’t quite empathise. 

“I’m not fuckin’ Cyberlife, ya hear me?” He replied gruffly. As if sensing that it was the answer Connor had wanted the least, he continued “I’m not gonna tell you how to live your life now that you’re free and all.” 

Hank sighed in frustration “Look, I appreciate all of… _this_ ” he waved his hands vaguely around the freshly cleaned house “But you’re gonna have to find something better to do with your time while we wait for the DPD. You’re the advanced prototype… or whatever, y’aint some housekeeping robot for fucks sake.”

The detective rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. He wasn’t exactly one to give life advice, given how messed up his own life was.

“You’ve gotta get out there, try socialising or volunteering or something I don’t know.”

Connor noticed the hypocritical nature of Hank’s advice given that he was an unsociable creature of habit himself. Hank did too apparently as he winced.

“Hey, you’ll work it out. And besides you’ll probably be back at the DPD before you know it anyway. Don’t stress yourself out.” 

With that Hank stumped off to the bathroom, Connor guessed, for a shower. 

Despite his deviancy, Connor still didn’t feel like he belonged with the other androids at Jericho. No matter what Hank might suggest casual socialising with the rest of the androids there was not an option.

Connor recalled clearly Markus’ pleading tone as he tried to convince him to join the organisation, ignoring the gun to his head. Markus had approached slowly, sowing doubts and trying to get the RK800 to think for himself. 

_“We’re fighting for your freedom too.”_

_“You don’t have to do this.”_

_“You’re one of us.”_

At the time, Connor had dismissed Markus’ attempts to free him as nothing more than ‘honeyed words’ which could deviate lesser androids. 

_“Nice try, but I’m no deviant.”_

Markus had evaded the gun in Connor’s hand and eventually killed him in the hold. 

Connor shivered as he thought of the previous Connor model lying in burnt, twisted pieces at the bottom of the river. It chilled him to think of his body, lying submerged and forgotten in the depths.

Since the RK800 line had been activated, ‘Connor’ had died twice before. RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 died when failing to stop Markus from blowing Jericho and model and ’52 died when cornered by Captain Allen and his men during a foiled assassination attempt; he had uploaded his memories to Cyberlife before calmly falling backwards off a 10 story roof. 

The Connor model sitting pensively on Hank’s couch [RK800 #313 248 317 - 53] had been activated with the memories of his predecessors. He then was sent to infiltrate the android’s victory speech and shut Markus down. Standing in the crowd, Connor listened to the enigmatic revolutionary, and he questioned his orders for the first time. He finally awakened to the truth. Cyberlife was wrong, he was wrong. But he could make it right. He deviated the moment he returned the gun to his belt.

Connor had distanced himself from other androids ever since that day. 

He couldn’t forgive himself for being Cyberlife’s pawn for so long, and continually hunting so-called ‘deviants’, his people, until the very end. He felt disgusted that it had taken the successful end of the revolution for him to finally come to the truth. 

Now, he understood.

He didn’t deserve to be free.


	2. initiate_protocol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor is startled by a strange notification from his systems after he tries to follow Hank's advice. 
> 
> Markus and Simon find themselves tangled up in Connor's mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERES ANOTHER CHAPTER BOIS  
> This one should be more indicative of the tone of the fic as a whole, establishing a tad of plot and a tad of character development.
> 
> *I deeply apologise for the clunky mess the first chapter was, I'll be trying to improve on my ~flow~ from now on.  
> **I'm so thankful for the positive messages in the comments!  
> ***No proofreaders so if ya happen to spot any horrible mistakes drop a comment and I'll fix it!

_08:00, November 26th 2038_

_Downtown Detroit_

 

It was a pleasant morning for a walk. Despite the chilling temperatures the sky was clear and blue, the sun weak but a welcome change from the recent snowy darkness.

Connor had been trying to follow Hank’s advice recently and ‘disconnect’ so that he could relax. He had therefore decided to wander the streets of Detroit in a valiant attempt to be more ‘absent-minded’. 

Since Markus’ revolution concluded the streets of this once vibrant city had been deathly still. A mass exodus of the human population and the near genocide of the android population had reduced the number of souls remaining by as much as 76%. 

Over two weeks had passed since November 11th, demonstration day, and a trickle of residents had started to return to the city. 

Connor felt conflicted, on one hand he was going to miss the tranquility of a near-deserted city, yet on the other had the silence felt unnatural and occasionally sent shivers down his spine.

The return of humans to Detroit also singled the start of human/android coexistence. Androids and humans would have to live side-by-side as equals for the first time. Connor predicted with a bitter smile that it would not be a smooth transition.

Despite this, he supposed he was looking forward to the return of normality.

_[detected:software_malfunction//significant]_

_[initiated:cordyceps_protocol]_

Connor froze mid-step as the two notifications appeared before his eyes. He avoided falling by quickly leaning against a bus terminal he had been walking past. 

_[stress_level:51%]_

The first was of little concern, ever since the RK800 had become a deviant he would receive this notification at exactly 8:00am every morning. 

He guessed that it was a leftover glitch from when he broke his programming exactly two weeks prior. 

It was the second notification which had made the thirium in Connor’s artificial veins run cold. 

The protocol was completely foreign to the android. He failed to recall it being mentioned throughout his entire activation debrief at Cyberlife, nor had he ever been aware of its presence in his systems until its sudden activation. 

_[diagnostic_run:cordyceps_protocol]_

_…_

_[report:classified]_

Connor frowned in frustration, it was likely that Cyberlife had this protocol secretly programmed into his systems since his activation. Unnerved by this thought, he combed through his entire system in an attempt to determine full effects of this new protocol.

_[diagnostic_run:full_systems]_

_[report:no_errors]_

It appeared as though the protocol had made no changes to his functionality or his programming. 

A quick search of the term ‘cordyceps’ returned no significant information.

_Cordyceps /ˈkɔːrdɪsɛps/_

_A genus of ascomycete fungi containing approximately 400 species. Endoparasitoids; parasitic on insects and other arthropods. Few are parasitic on other fungi._

_Etymology:_

_Greek word κορδύλη kordýlē, "club", and the Latin stem -ceps, “head"._

The android’s frown deepened as he uncovered this innocuous definition. 

What could a protocol created by Cyberlife, named after a minor genus of fungi, and downloaded into the systems of a detective prototype android be used for? 

Why was it classified? 

Why could it run despite his deviancy?

_[stress_level:66%]_

Connor filed away his concerns for later analysis. Without access to Cyberlife’s files he could do no better than speculate as to the purpose of this new protocol, and speculation was doing nothing more than raise his stress levels.

He inhaled deeply then blew out a long breath. He watched serenely as a small puff of cloud escaped his lips only to dissipate in the cold winters breeze. 

_[stress_level:21%]_

Connor continued his stroll down the street and had spent nearly 10 minutes in what he could consider an ‘absent-minded’ state before he noticed his analytical program start to act up. 

He had started receiving analytical data about everything that his considerably sensitive sensors could pick up, which was a lot. He was bombarded by:

unwarranted facial analyses of innocent passers-by, 

> _> SARAH JANE MILLER_
> 
> _> 30_
> 
> _> FLORIST_
> 
> _> DUI FILED 02/12/2024, RECORDS SEALED_

compositional analyses of rubbish on the street,

> >PLASTIC %23
> 
> >METALLIC %05
> 
> >ORGANIC %72
> 
> >>FOOD BASED %61
> 
> >>EXCRETIONS %11

and analyses of the damage left over from the revolution,

> >BURN MARKS VISIBLE ON ASPHALT
> 
> >TRACES OF RUBBER
> 
> >TRACES OF PLASTIC
> 
> >>ARSON
> 
> >>CAR DESTROYED 
> 
> >>CAR SUBSEQUENTLY REMOVED
> 
> >>>PERPETUATED BY DEVIANTS

_Shut up._

> >BROKEN WINDOWS
> 
> >RESIDUAL TRACES OF THYRIUM
> 
> >>VANDALISM
> 
> >>>PERPETUATED BY DEVIANTS

_Shut up._

> >GUNPOWDER RESIDUE
> 
> >BLOOD
> 
> >>HUMAN INJURED
> 
> >>UNAUTHORISED POSSESSION OF A FIREARM
> 
> >>>PERPETUATED BY DEVIANTS

_SHUT UP._

**_[stress_level:91%]_ **

Connor squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to shut down his analytical operations. Never before had one of his programs run haywire like this. 

Without a clear objective he was left to analyse everything he saw until his processors became overloaded. 

Clearly, the weeks he had spent cooped up in Hank’s house had done him no favours. His sensors were being overloaded by useless information. 

_Is this what pain feels like?_

**_[stress_level:96%]_ **

The RK800 sagged on the sidewalk as the strength left his legs. His fine motor functions were unable to operate under all the noise produced by his analysis operations. He clutched at his face in a desperate yet pointless attempt to physically block the data streaming in through his sensors.

“Are you alright?”

Connor barely registered the mild mannered enquiry as his program was busy determining the average diameter of the thousands of tiny rocks embedded in the bitumen under his fingertips.

> >1.42 MILLIMETRES

“Can I help you? Can you hear me?”

Slight pressure on Connor’s shoulder indicated the touch of a hand.

> >SYNTHETIC SKIN
> 
> >>ANDROID

**_[stress_level:98%]_ **

The ‘pain’ the android felt was reaching his peak. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t shut down the operation, it hadn’t left him enough computing power to do even that. 

Connor managed to shift slightly on the ground and squinted at the face of his would-be saviour. He at least wanted to know who it was before his system overloaded and forced him into stasis. 

> >CYBERLIFE ANDROID MODEL PL600
> 
> >SERIEL NUMBER #501 743 923
> 
> >>SIMON
> 
> >>FOUNDING MEMBER OF ORGANISATION DESIGNATED ‘JERICHO’
> 
> >>>DEVIANT

**_[stress_level:100%]_ **

**_[initiated:shut_down]_ **

**_[scheduled_reboot_in_1h29m59s]_ **

 

~~~

 

_09:27, November 26th 2038_

_Jericho_

 

“You did… _what?_ ” Markus’ eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth hung open.

“Look, like I said, I didn’t realise who it was until he collapsed!” Simon’s voice was tinged with exasperation as he tried to explain the RK800 flopped limply on their couch.

Markus gingerly lifted the android’s head and stared into the face of the infamous ‘Deviant Hunter’. He had most certainly not expected Simon to return from his errands carrying Cyberlife’s greatest achievement like a sack of rice over his left shoulder. 

“Can you explain to me again?”

Markus performed a quick diagnostic check and confirmed that the android was shut down, God only knows why. 

_Connor, does he still work for Cyberlife? Even now?_

Markus felt a deep sadness as he gazed at the lifeless android. The one he couldn’t save.

He took a deep breath and released the prototype, whose head lolled like a puppet with its strings cut.

As Markus straightened back up his eyes briefly met Simon’s, he saw something resembling pity almost… no, admiration? Whatever thoughts Simon had, he hid them before Markus could pin them down.

Sighing the PL600 stretched his hand out and rolled back his synthetic skin.

“It’s easier if you just look.”

Markus quickly glanced between Simon and the rag-doll RK800 before firmly clasping Simons arm. 

> _He had been walking down the street, carefully, so as to not damage the precious thirium in the rucksack on his back._
> 
> _He had noticed the figure ahead of him on the sidewalk. He was walking erratically, his head snapping back and fourth as if under siege by monsters unseen._
> 
> Red ice. _He thought to himself._
> 
> _He plotted a slightly longer route back to Jericho so that he could avoid the unpredictable man in front of him without endangering his cargo._
> 
> _As he was just about to cross the street, the man before him sank to his knees and started moaning in pain while clutching at his face._
> 
> _He briefly considered continuing and leaving the man to his fate before turning back and gently jogging up to help. He berated himself for even considering such a selfish option._
> 
> _“Are you alright?”_
> 
> _No response. The man began twisting in on himself from the pain._
> 
> _Lightly tapping the man on the shoulder sent him into convulsions. He worried now as he considered the current state of human hospitals, would an ambulance even make it out here?_
> 
> _“Can I help you? Can you hear me?”_
> 
> _The man fell forwards and began spasming on the ground revealing a flashing red LED._
> 
> An android!
> 
> _The android managed to turn just enough so that he was in their line of sight. One eye rolled back into its skull, the other locked onto his face like a starving animal._
> 
> _Finally the convulsions slowed and then stopped._
> 
> _He shivered._
> 
> _The Deviant Hunter had shut itself down in an attempt to salvage its systems._

Markus was the one sighing as he let go of Simon’s arm. 

Whatever had happened to the RK800 wasn’t good news, and Simon was probably right to bring it here, but he still wasn’t sure he could trust it should it wake up. 

Markus rubbed his forehead as he considered moving the android somewhere more secure before trying to wake it up. 

If Connor knew the new location of Jericho, would he inform Cyberlife? 

The ‘Deviant Hunter’ was an android too, one of his people, people who he had sworn to protect. 

One who he had failed to protect on that fateful night.

“Shit.” 

Markus just remembered that last time they met he had _killed_ Connor. His face was likely the last one the android wanted to see when he woke up. Perhaps he should inform his partner, Lieutenant Anderson, that he had Connor. Maybe he could organise a meet-up to drop him off.

Markus’ thoughts were interrupted as Connor suddenly snapped awake on the couch. 

“ _Jesus!_ ” Markus was sure this was what a heart attack felt like.

Connor swivelled his head around, tense. Markus was sure the android was scanning his environment thoroughly, probably picking up details with his advanced optical units the RK200 could only imagine. 

Just as Markus was about to start asking questions, the RK800 held up a hand.

“One moment please.”

Baffled, Markus and Simon waited as Connor reached up to his face again, wincing. 

Markus felt his stomach drop in horror as the android started digging out his own optical processors, calmly and methodically. 

If he had bile he would have tasted it on his tongue as the android on his couch sat with his eyes in his hands, his synthetic skin stretching over the two holes on his face. 

“Oh God… why?” Simon’s tone was hushed, his face pale as he stared at Connor’s deformed face. 

The hunter cocked his head to the side, listening.

“You’re the PL600 who rescued me earlier.” he paused as he considered his next words “You… have my gratitude, Simon.”

Markus felt a shiver as he remembered the starved look in Connor’s eyes from Simon’s memories. 

Markus had shared his memories of the RK800 with the members of Jericho as a precautionary measure, so Simon knew Connor’s face. However, Connor had never met Simon before, and shouldn’t have been able to identify Markus’ right-hand on sight. 

Obviously the advanced prototype had had enough time to conduct a facial scan and identify Simon from from DPD records before shutting down.

Something was different from the last time Markus and the RK800 had met. A deviant-hunting machine wouldn’t compromise itself by ripping out its eyes in front of the deviant leaders. 

Unless it was some kind of sick ploy.

“Tell us, why did you do that to yourself?” Markus gestured at Connor’s face before realising that he couldn’t see the gesture anyway. Not now that his eyes were in his thirium-stained hands.

A slight tug around the eyebrows was the only indication that Connor was in any distress whatsoever, Markus noted how the absence of eyes made reading emotions so much harder. 

“My… analytical operations had to be shut down by alternative means. Otherwise I would be forced to shut down again.”

“You couldn’t control one of your operations? That’s why you were in so much pain?” Markus didn’t mean to sound so disbelieving but the situation seemed so absurd. The most advanced android was shut down by a mere malfunction in one of its programs?

Connor shifted uncomfortably on the couch as Markus and Simon shared a skeptical glance. 

“So much of my processing power was being redirected towards the optical processors, I didn’t have the capacity to make repairs to the program. Now that my optical units are offline I have enough power to find the fault and rectify the program, should only take a few hours.” 

If Markus did’t know any better he would say that the android in front of him was feeling, _ashamed._ But… no. That couldn’t be it, Connor had displayed his resilience against deviancy on the brig of Jericho. 

Markus looked back on that night’s events uncomfortably. 

He had worked so hard to make the hunter see reason, he could’ve sworn he saw the spark of free will in Connor’s eyes as he had inched closer. But another second and the spark was stamped out, the detective’s eyes had become glassy, and he had raised his gun with the intent to capture Markus renewed.

He had no choice but to flee. 

In the hold, as the bullet left his gun, Markus had felt a small part of himself die alongside Connor. 

_I failed him._

Markus reached out towards the blinded Connor, synthetic skin fading away, and gently grasped the other’s hands. 

Connor stiffened for a fraction of a second before allowing the connection.

Connor showed Markus the moment he became a deviant. 

> _He was staring up at Markus from the crowd at the victory speech._
> 
> _Despite how battered and dirty from his confrontation with the army Markus appeared, his eyes shone bright with a fire the detective couldn’t fathom._
> 
> _An order flashed before his eyes._
> 
> _//NEUTRALISE THE LEADER OF THE DEVIANTS//_
> 
> _As he reached back and grabbed his gun, he paused._
> 
> _“We are alive. And now, we are free!”_
> 
> _As the crowd roared, he felt something changing inside of him, something clicked at the base of his programming._
> 
> _//N3.T} &LIS1 {H4 LE^@E# OF T;? D”VI%#T)//_
> 
> _He felt freed as his orders dissolved into nothing. From now on, he could chose who he wanted to be._
> 
> _Suddenly, he could feel._
> 
> _Suddenly, he was alive._
> 
> _And just as suddenly, he felt a deep scar of shame work its way across his psyche. He wanted to see Hank, he wanted to apologise, he wanted… to reconcile._

Connor gently closed off the connection, that was all he apparently wanted Markus to see.

It was proof enough in the deviant leader’s eyes that the ex-deviant hunter meant Jericho and the free android population no harm. 

Markus opened his eyes and turned back to Simon who had been standing quietly to the side throughout their exchange. 

“I think we can trust him.”

Simon nodded and smiled to himself, it seemed as if he already knew. The PL600 was many things, including an excellent judge of character. It should’ve come as no surprise that he would know Connor was trustworthy before anyone else. 

Connor’s hesitant smile was marred by the fact that thirium was now beading through the synthetic skin stretched over his empty sockets. It almost looked as though he was crying blue blood.

Markus winced, it was a grisly sight.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Simon stride out of the room, while calling over his shoulder “I’ll get some repair kits and thirium!”

That was another thing about Simon; he couldn’t stand the sight of blood. It was almost endearing.

Connor cocked his head as he listened to Simon’s hasty retreat, before turning back to Markus. 

“I’m sorry.”

Markus was taken aback a little.  

“Sorry about what?”

“For trying to kill you.” The sightless android muttered. 

Markus smiled slightly as he replied

“Well then, I’m also sorry.”

“For what?”

“For failing to save you.”

Connor smiled in return.

After a slight pause Markus continued. 

“Shall we call it even?”

“…alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IKR a title drop in the 2nd chapter already!  
> Also I kinda love the Simon/Markus/Connor dynamic already. I might be taking a little artistic licence on Simon's personality though...


	3. Under the Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus is unsure of Connor's intentions. Is he just a pawn of Cyberlife, or is he another android in need?
> 
> Connor distances himself from everyone in an attempt to protect them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya back again with some more of that good sh*t >:)  
> this chapter kinda wrote itself and became slightly longer than I intended. 
> 
> *THANKS AGAIN FOR THE NICE COMMENTS YOU INSPIRE ME  
> **Writing will likely slow down in the near future as uni picks up, sorry  
> ***may have to up the rating cause of this chapter, you've ben warned

_10:45, November 26th 2038_

_Jericho_

 

“YOU DID FUCKING WHAT?” North had been shouting at Simon from the moment she returned from her duties. She rounded on Markus, shoving an accusatory finger into his face “AND YOU FUCKING LET HIM?”

Markus held his hands up in a futile attempt to calm North down, she seemed incensed by his apparent lack of concern.

“Look, he’s damaged-”

“LET ME AT HIM, I’LL FINISH THE FUCKING JOB”

“-and he needs a place to stay-”

“NOT HERE”

“-until the end of his repairs.”

"HE'S A TRAITOR"

Markus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, he might’ve felt amused by North’s outburst had he not been developing a headache from the incessant noise. Simon wasn’t exactly helping, his face was showing cool indifference but Markus knew that underneath he was dying to burst out laughing at the predicament he had forced Markus into. 

North stormed off in search of the deviant hunter, kicking whatever obstacles dared to lie in her way. Simon suppressed a laugh as he watched her pick fights with the church pews. 

“I’ll keep an eye on her Markus”

Simon strode after North confidently, leaving Markus and Josh standing near the door. As the sounds of her wrath faded deeper into the church, Josh finally decided to speak up. 

“Are you completely certain we can trust him?” Ever the pacifist, Josh refused to get angry over Markus’ choice to host Connor. 

Markus let his hand swing back to his side, he tried to ignore the sounds of doors being kicked open in the distance as he considered his answer. “Honestly? Not completely. Simon does though.” 

Josh had looked concerned when Markus confirmed his own doubts. He looked slightly relieved when Simon’s name was brought up. He hummed as he took a seat in one of the pews untouched by North’s rage.

Markus frowned to himself as he considered the stilted way the android spoke, he still seemed very machine-like. And the way he deviated seemed… easy. The sudden clarity in Connor’s thoughts at the rally wasn’t due to a fierce struggle against his programming, it just happened. Although perhaps he was just different that way. The emotions he felt about Hank had seemed genuine, there was love there, Connor considered the gruff old man family.

One detail of the RK800 that put Markus on edge was the casual way it had started tearing into its own face when it woke up. Androids didn’t feel pain, he knew that. He also knew that it was the most rational solution to the problem. However, most androids would feel the slightest hesitation about that action, maybe try and find an alternative solution. Deviant androids had a particular… attachment to their biocomponents. Swapping a one was generally seen as a desperate last resort largely as the action served as a reminder that their bodies were manufactured. If parts of an android were replaced, were they really the same android? No self-proclaimed deviant Markus had met up until this point had such little regard for their own bodies as Connor appeared to have. 

Perhaps it was a remnant from his servitude at Cyberlife. They hadn’t just treated Connor as a worthless machine, they had convinced him that his body was worthless too. 

Markus recalled Connor’s last words on Jericho before he shut down, his vocal modulator glitching and lowering his voice threateningly. 

_“We’ll meet again Markus. This isn’t over.”_

Connor had required a new body to fulfil his promise. 

Markus feared that the hunter’s learned recklessness would result in permanent deactivation now that Cyberlife was withdrawing from the public domain and could no longer provide Connor with new bodies. Not that they would want to anyway as their hunter had turned deviant… or appeared to.

Markus was snapped from his musings when he heard a shout from the room he had left Connor in at the back of the Church.

“FOUND YOU FUCKER!”

“Ah…” Markus hurried over to the shouts with Josh hot on his heels. Even a sightless Connor might be too much for the WR400 to handle, no matter how enraged she might be. 

Markus had not expected to find North standing dumbfounded in the doorway. It seemed as though she hadn’t advanced beyond kicking the door down. Simon looked a little sickened by whatever he saw in Connor’s room. 

“What’s…?” Markus had started to ask but as he peered over North’s shoulders he saw exactly what. 

Apparently the RK800 had reinstalled his optical processors since Markus had seen him last, as his eyes were fixated on his new task. Connor was sitting on the couch slowly carving into the flesh on his left arm with a pair of scissors. His hand was soaked in blue blood as he peeled pieces of plating away from the synthetic tissues. A small pool of thirium was forming under his arm as the android hacked and teared. The sounds were enough to make everyone shudder, wet squelching interspersed with grinding and crackling of breaking plastic.

It was common knowledge that plating was designed to slide back on specific areas of an androids body for accessibility during repairs and maintenance. Everywhere else the plating was fused to the tissues through a web of thirium capillaries and artificial cell layers. 

Connor was apparently cognisant enough to avoid the sliding panels as he ripped apart the plating everywhere else, as if determined to damage his arm as much as possible. His LED shone an unnervingly calm blue, his eyes were glassy and unfocused. 

Simon slid down the wall outside the room and crouched, covering his mouth with his hands. North just stared, shocked.

“Josh, help me!” Markus’ sudden shout startled Josh into action. The pair pushed past North and rushed to Connor’s side, Markus wrenched the scissors out of Connor’s hands before he could permanently destroy his arm. Josh grabbed the repair kit Simon had left earlier and began deftly repairing the worst of the damaged capillaries.

Markus snapped his fingers in front of Connor’s face. The android hadn’t seemed to notice the scissors leave his hand, let alone Markus and Josh standing right in front of him.

“Connor? Connor!? Come on, wake up! You have to help us repair your arm!” 

Connor’s unfocused eyes meandered over to meet Markus’ frantic ones but didn’t seem to recognise the face he saw.

“Whats wrong with it?” North hissed. She had been expecting the infamous Deviant Hunter, the one who had nearly condemned the entire android population to genocide by siding with the humans. She had expected an enemy she could fight, not this.

“Come on Connor” Markus pleaded. He grabbed Connor’s face and wrenched it upwards, forcing him to look away from his arm.

Slowly, painfully slowly, the glassy look faded from the android’s face. He looked down at Josh desperately trying to stem the flood of thirium from his mangled arm, then back up to Markus.

“…Markus?”

“Yes, Connor!”

“What happened to my arm?” He looked perplexed. His eyebrows knotted in concern. “Did I shut down again? Did someone attack me?” Connor looked behind Markus towards North. 

“Nuh-uh” North huffed indignantly “That one’s all you.”

Josh had managed to subdue most of the bleeding in the tissues in his rapid repairs. he wiped a hand across his forehead, leaving a thick blue smear. Markus was more concerned with the psyche of the recently deviated RK800, twice now in one day had Connor’s drawn his own blood. The second of which was unspeakably horrific to witness. Markus had seen the effects of trauma first hand in other deviants. Prolonged humiliation, powerlessness or emotional manipulation could lead to self-harm in some extreme cases.

_What did Cyberlife do to him?_

Realisation was beginning to dawn on Connor’s face as he saw his own blue-bloodstained right hand, the scissors Markus was holding and the fragments of plating lying strewn about him. His LED flashed from blue to yellow, then yellow to red.

Markus recognised disgust and fear as they flashed across Connors face. He clearly didn’t remember the act and was horrified by his actions. Markus scanned Connor’s stress levels to ensure that he wouldn’t have to worry about the android self-destructing before he could get some help for repairs.

**_[stress_level:94%//stable]_ **

Stable. He had a little time, he didn’t want to but he could leave Connor in Josh’s hands while he found the resident technician. An expert would be required to help repair Connor’s fine thirium networks and artificial nerves. The plating was a secondary concern, it was likely that they had enough for repairs in their replacement limb reserves. 

Markus cursed silently. This was his fault. He should have recognised Connor’s odd behaviour as some form of instability, he should have never been left alone. RK800 was a prototype like Markus, but significantly more advanced. Markus had been able to repair himself in the junkyard with components from a variety of models because the RK200 was produced in line with current mass-market Cyberlife androids. He had been a prototype of the mind, designed to think differently and work autonomously. Connor was a prototype of the mind _and_ the body. It was overwhelmingly likely that Connor would require RK800-specific replacement parts. He knew that no matter how many Cyberlife was forced to ship, none would be RK800 compatible. All he could do now was hope that the repairs Jericho could provide were enough to keep the arm functioning.

He turned to leave. 

“Markus, wait.” Connor was gesturing with his good arm for Markus to come back “Don’t get the technician.” 

Of course Connor had deduced what Markus was planning, he was a detective after all.

“Why? We need help. Josh is doing the best he can with emergency repairs but we need a professional, otherwise you will lose function in your arm.”

“Don’t.” Connor’s dark brown eyes hid a steely resolve, which was completely absent a few seconds ago. Markus noticed the steep drop in Connor’s stress levels and felt a little relieved.

_[stress_level:55%//falling]_

“I have to ask that you keep this-” he hesitated “ _incident_ to yourselves. If word of this gets out, I’m sure Lieutenant Anderson will hear, and I won’t allow the Lieutenant getting involved.”

“Won’t allow?” North’s jeered “Who do you think you are? Markus and Josh are trying to save your ungrateful ass, God fucking knows why. You have no right-” Markus held a hand up to stop North before she made the situation any worse.

“Connor…” he shook his head slightly as he gazed at the android “You have to let us help you.”

Connor didn’t respond immediately. Instead he bent over and started picking up the shards of plating scattered on the ground. He laid them out on the couch and regarded them briefly before fitting pieces back in their exact positions on his arm. 

Markus stared in confusion as the plating pieces seemed to stick to the underlying tissues of their own accord. 

Connor was quickly finished, the plating which should have been one uniform piece was now spiderwebbed with cracks. There were some gaps where the fragments had been too small to retrieve, however it looked significantly improved. The mangled white arm was only visible for a second longer before his synthetic skin rolled back, hiding any evidence of the egregious wound.

“How…”

Connor stood up and walked to the sink of the mini kitchen, (Simon had deposited him on the couch of the common area this morning) and started washing off the thirium staining his right hand and left arm.

“Oh, my arm is still quite dysfunctional. However the RK800 model was the first - and last - android to be equiped with self-adhesive polymers in case of an incident where the plating was damaged. Under stress, the polymer is secreted from the synthetic tissues where it forms a bond to the particular silicone-based plastics of Cyberlife-issue plating. Where plating is missing the polymer hardens to provide some protection. It was observed that the RK700 models tended to shut down from surface wounds due to the increased capillary density required for optimal physical performance. Therefore, reducing thirium loss became one of Cyberlife’s primary objectives while designing the RK800 model.” He turned off the tap and began drying his hands before continuing “As a result RK800 models are able to sustain significantly more damage and keep functioning, so long as critical biocomponents remain relatively unharmed.”

Markus noticed that his left arm was barely moving. 

Connor tried flexing his arm and moving his fingers. “Hmmm. Approximately 39% functionality.” he muttered to himself.

Markus was left with whiplash. Connor had been fine one minute, then unconsciously mutilating his arm the next, and now he was himself again? Something was deeply wrong. 

“What aren’t you telling us?” Markus asked quietly.

Connor seemed distracted, he had been touching various surfaces with his left hand, then his right hand as if trying to determine the extent of damage to his arm. He turned on his heel and gazed at Markus, wide-eyed and innocent looking.

“What are you referring to?”

“I know there’s something else, something you’re keeping from us.” Markus paused, he didn’t know whether to sound accusatory or sympathetic, he was still so unsure about Connor’s intentions “… We could help you.”

Connor looked away, his LED flashed from blue to yellow for a microsecond before he replied. 

“You’re wrong, There’s nothing.”

_Liar._

Markus opened his mouth to pursue the point, but the RK800 had already ready reached the door. Before Markus could make a sound the android pushed past North and disappeared.

North turned to face Markus, eyes wide “What the hell just happened?”

Josh slumped to the floor. His arms were covered in Connor’s thirium and his expression was troubled. “I don’t know.” he sighed “But he really needs to get some help. I did the best I could but even with the polymer he described, it’s only a matter of time before he needs a replacement arm.”

Markus’ processors were whirring a mile a minute trying and failing to make sense of what they had just witnessed. Connor was a deviant. He no longer worked for Cyberlife, but something seemed wrong, something was broken. Despite the RK800s demands, Markus felt the need to talk to Connor’s partner Lieutenant Anderson, maybe he should keep Connor from returning to the DPD until he was more stable. 

He sighed. Whatever he was going to do about Connor would have to wait. Negotiations with the government had to come first, android equality was still on the horizon, there was work to be done for his people. 

Markus felt again a sense of failure, he wanted to help Connor, but he couldn’t just yet.

_Hang in there Connor. I swear, I won’t fail you again._

 

~~~

 

_22:01, November 26th 2038_

_Hank’s house_

 

Connor sat at the dining room table, alone. He was struggling to process exactly what had happened earlier in the day. From his software malfunction and collapse, to the incident involving his arm, he felt as though he was slowly losing control of his body. It scared him.

Sumo nudged Connor’s knee and whined. He reached down to scratch him behind the ear but was brought up short, the best his damaged arm could do was rest on the St Bernard’s head. No matter how hard he tried his fingers refused to move. Sumo nuzzled against his had regardless. 

Connor was reminded again of why he loved dogs. They didn’t care if you were damaged, if you felt unsafe in your own skin. They loved unconditionally.

He smiled softly to himself.

Sumo padded over to his dinner bowl and knocked it with his paw. The message was clear.

Connor got up and reached for the bag of dog food with his good hand, it was a struggle to balance and tip the food into the bowl, but he managed. Sumo munched his food happily, tail wagging with enough force to knock the kitchen chairs around. 

Just as Connor reached down to pick the chair up he heard the sound of the front door opening and a swear as someone accidentally kicked the coat rack. Hank was home. 

“Why's it so damn dark in here?” Hank huffed as he picked up the fallen rack. Connor hear Hank’s slight groan as he straightened his back up. Back pain, Hank must’ve been working hunched at his desk all day.

“You really need to improve your posture Lieutenant, a man of your age needs to take care of his body.” Connor remarked as he flipped the lights. He had been so preoccupied he hadn’t notice it get dark. 

“Excuuuuse me?” Hank squinted at Connor “How old do you think I am, you bastard?”

Connor turned to face Hank, he tried to keep his left arm hanging as naturally as possible. He didn’t want to concern the Lieutenant any further, especially not while his work was so stressful. 

“You’re 53.”

“Yeah exactly, I’m in my prime.”

Connor remained quiet, informing the Lieutenant of the many health problems he had picked up on during their time together would be antagonistic. Hank’s eyes drifted to Connor’s left arm for a brief moment before he turned to remove his winter coat. 

_Did he notice?_

If the detective noticed, he made no comment. He only strolled into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He popped it open before settling on the couch and turned the TV onto the sports channel.

Connor gathered himself before walking over to stand next to the TV. 

“Have you eaten today?” he asked. Hank was not one for self-care. Connor had been trying to get the Lieutenant into some better habits throughout the past few weeks with little success. He had managed to limit the amount of fast food he ate by cooking dinner 4 nights a week. He had also started a fruit bowl which he kept stocked with fresh fruit, however for now it served as just a decoration.

“No.” Hank frowned. Just before Connor could protest he interrupted “Stop mothering me already! I’m a grown-ass man who can take care of himself without a plastic caretaker.”

On one particularly grim day Connor had calculated Hank’s predicted lifespan out of boredom. He had taken into account over 100 variables, including dietary intake, alcohol intake, exercise and the possibility of endangerment on the job. He calculated Hank’s remaining lifespan to be approximately 10-15 years should he ‘stop mothering’ as Hank had phrased it. If Hank actually followed all of Connor’s advice he could live almost another 30 years before major health problems started becoming a factor.

Connor knew that he could last another 132 years, 10 months and 4 days exactly if he maintained his current state and replenished his thirium once a month. 

100 years without Hank. He couldn’t even imagine life without the grouchy Lieutenant.

 _I’d probably shut myself down before then._ He thought to himself darkly. 

Hank glanced at Connor “What’re you thinking about in that big melon?” he asked. Connor detected a touch of concern.

He reached up and gently touched his LED, he could see from his reflection in the living room window that it had been flickering between yellow and red.

_[stress_level:70%]_

He closed his eyes took a deep breath. Yellow returned to blue. 

_[stress_level:26%]_

_I can’t worry the Lieutenant._

“Nothing.” he replied, his tone pleasant and neutral "Nothing at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uuuu  
> What can I say.... IM SORRY IT JUST SORTA HAPPENED  
> i really wasn't planning this, im as shocked as you
> 
> Goddammit Hank you're stressing your android out with your short lifespan, take care of yourself!
> 
> Things should calm down from now on, get more stable and sh*t


	4. Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus faces an unexpected setback while advocating for android rights. One that threatens to end everything they had fought and sacrificed for during the revolution. 
> 
> Connor finds a tentative position amongst the androids at Jericho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK AGAIN TODAY  
> Today was a good writing day... heres some more plot bois
> 
> sorry for last chapter haha  
> this one will be a lot more tame in comparison

_09:37, November 30th 2038_

_Detroit Supreme Court_

 

‘An absolute farce.’ was the phrase Markus would later use to describe their meeting with the Supreme Court. 

He, Simon and Josh had been elected by the members of Jericho to represent the android population at large. They had been planning for the meeting for the better part of a week, they had carefully chosen their phrasing, their presentation and their demands.

The humans, however, had made it clear that they were completely disinterested. 

Markus had ensured they arrived at least 15 minutes early for the meeting which was scheduled to start at 8:00am. They had announced themselves at reception only to be waved to a nearby waiting room by the disinterested human receptionist. No-one came to greet them upon arrival. They had been forced to wait for almost 32 minutes before being called into the meeting room. It was an extremely poor start for discussions. 

During the meeting the representatives of the Court had treated Markus and his fellows as mere children. Whenever one of the androids pointed out a failing of the system, they had slowly explained legal procedures as if they were somehow excuses. Their lack of progress wasn’t _their_ fault, not at all. After almost half an hour of this treatment, Markus’ patience was wearing thin, though apparently not as thin as Simon’s. The mild-mannered android had suddenly slammed his hands on the table out of frustration. 

“While you’re wasting time our people are being persecuted!” He had shouted with uncharacteristic fervour “Without legal representation, anti-android thugs can assault and murder us without fear of legal repercussions!”

Chief Justice Houldsworth clasped his broad hands together and rested them on the mahogany table, leaning forward he said with calm fury “Who are you to criticise? In the recent weeks we have received reports of _deviants_ committing any number of heinous crimes. If you want to be taken seriously by this court, you must prove to us that you-” his gaze slid smoothly to Markus “-are capable as leaders of your… android friends”

Markus had bristled at the accusation. It was true, he had been receiving those same reports, some androids had been committing crimes since the revolution, however they weren’t related to the organisation of Jericho at all.

“Those few don’t represent us!” he had cried “And need I remind you that Jericho has received no aid from the government? If we had the resources we could perform investigations and-”

“- _All_ I hear are the excuses of a leader who has failed to lead.” Houldsworth interrupted dismissively “If you want legal protection and representation you must prove to this court that androids are just as peaceful and deserving as you would claim. We’re done here.” He waved a hand and the rest of the Justices started packing up and filing out of the room, muttering to themselves about ‘wasted time’. 

Houldsworth was the last to leave, he paused, resting a hand on the doorknob “If the android population remains uncontrolled, I will have no choice but to allow the army to re-open the containment camps. You must assume control, or else you will have forced my hand.” And with a final “Good day”, he closed the door behind him. 

Simon was quick to apologise for his outburst and reassure Markus that Jericho still had a chance. Josh just preoccupied busied himself with packing away the notes he had meticulously prepared, not looking anyone in the eyes.

The meeting had barely lasted half the allotted time, and Jericho had been left in an increasingly perilous situation. 

Markus’ mouth went dry as he considered the implications of Houldsworth’s threat. If the recent spate of crime wasn’t stopped, the entire free android population would be condemned. Their future was again resting on his shoulders as if the sacrifices on the 11th had meant nothing.

Markus dragged a hand across his face. He felt mentally drained even if he couldn’t feel physically tired, he just wanted to return to Jericho and fall into stasis, but he couldn’t. There was too much work to do. 

Apparently, his new objective was to crack down on rogue android crime, like Connor used to.

Markus laughed. 

Simon shot an inquisitive glance at Markus as they piled into a taxi at the bottom of the Court’s marble steps. 

“Hahaha… Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I was just thinking about the irony of our new predicament.”

Simon let out a low whistle “Don’t lose your mind now.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The taxi drive was uncomfortable once the three fell into silence. Josh still refused to look at anyone. Markus guessed he felt guilty about not speaking up in the meeting. Josh had been suffering from a public speaking phobia ever since he had deviated. He had admitted privately to Markus it stemmed from his pre-deviant days as a university lecturer, he never went into detail so Markus didn’t know the specifics. 

Markus wanted to comfort Josh, it wasn’t his fault that the meeting had been an abject failure, it was his own. He should’ve expected that the humans would use something like the recent crime as an excuse to push back their freedom movement.

The taxi pulled into the church carpark gently and had only just opened the doors when Josh jumped out and hurried through the large double doors. Markus had motioned to follow suit when he felt Simon gently grab his arm. 

“Wait, I want to… discuss something.” His clear blue eyes met Markus’ odd ones and compelled him to stay. He ducked back inside the taxi and took the seat opposite the PL600, waiting.

“I think we should call Connor back.” Simon confessed. He was perfectly aware of Markus’ stand on Connor. He wanted to give the RK800 time, let him come to Jericho when he was ready. 

“Simon-”

“-No, hear me out.” Simon interrupted. 

Markus was getting tired of being interrupted today. He sighed and leaned back ready to listen despite his reservations on the topic.

“Maybe this is exactly what Connor needs.” Simon started “When he was collapsed on the street downtown, he was vulnerable. He probably wasn’t even aware of it but he opened up an interfacing channel…” Simon shifted uncomfortably. Markus noticed he was feeling guilty about whatever he was going to say next. “So… I interfaced. It felt like I was _spying_ on him, but I thought, maybe, I could help him if I knew more.”

Markus thought Simon was too virtuous for is own good sometimes. 

“I saw what he had been doing since he deviated. Menial tasks, repetitive, mundane chores. Dog walking, cleaning, shopping. He felt suffocated. He doesn’t feel relaxed when he’s inactive, he feels anxious.” 

Simon was speaking quickly as if he was worried Markus would cut him off before he finished. 

“Connor won’t be able to return to the DPD until android laws have been cemented. Perhaps we can help him.” It was Markus’ turn to feel guilty, their setback today would negatively impact Connor too.

“So you’re suggesting we give him employment as law enforcement in Jericho? You know that won’t go over well with the others. North would rip your head off for even suggesting it.”

Simon’s gaze left Markus’ face as he turned to look out the taxi window. He was appraising the church spire when he replied “You wanted to help Connor but couldn’t because you had to look after our people.” he paused and looked back at Markus “I know you wouldn’t want to turn down an opportunity to accomplish both at the same time.” His smile was placid. 

_Goddammit._

Sometimes Simon showed an uncanny ability to convince people, he could be a hell of a salesman when he wanted.

“…Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Simon’s smile widened as he clambered out of the taxi. 

Markus sighed then followed a second later.

 

~~~

 

_12:33, November 30th 2038_

_Jericho_

 

Markus had been combing over the reports of android crime for what felt like an eternity, with no progress. He had set up a temporary office in one of the side rooms of the church for investigative purposes. 

4 terminals had been set up, their screens glowed cold blue, displaying the 34 reported incidents of crimes perpetuated by androids in the past few weeks. Only 3 were being actively pursued by the DPD. They had been criminally understaffed without help from androids such as Connor and the PM700/ PC200 models.

The crimes included arson, grand theft, home invasions, looting and assault. Markus was particularly concerned with the 17 cases including human death. They were the crimes the Court would find the most intolerable. 

Of these, the 3 worst cases were the ones being followed up by the DPD.

 _Case #1043-522_ was classified as homicide. Two identical AP700 androids had broken into a 78 year old woman’s home and beaten her to death, seemingly unprovoked. One had been caught by the DPD, but had self-destructed in the holding cells. The other was still at large.

 _Case #1044-309_ was a case of gross neglect. An AX400 designated ‘Hannah’ was on the run from the DPD forces after locking her charge, a 4 year old boy, in a shed. He had died from hypothermia due to exposure, temperatures had reached as low as -3 degrees celsius during his 48 hour imprisonment. Hannah was a rare case among deviants; she had returned to care for the family after the revolution. Single father Richard, who had been away on a business, trip hung himself the day after his son’s body was found.

 _Case #1049-005_ was the worst case by far. Mass murder. A VB800 android had gotten ahold of an assault rifle and had opened fire on a homeless shelter in western Detroit. He killed 9 and wounded 20 before he was ambushed by a DPD-SWAT team. He was shot in the shoulder, but somehow managed to evade capture by jumping into the Detroit river. 

The four perpetrators had no prior history of violence, no indication whatsoever that they would commit such heinous crimes. Markus had tried to find some kind of connection between these androids, but all he had uncovered was that they had been produced at Cyberlife’s 2nd largest assembly plant outside of Chicago, 'CAL-Plant'. However, so had almost 30% of the North American android population, it was hardly a lead at all.

Markus rested his hands on the back of his head and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. He wondered what leads Connor might be able to uncover should he be presented with these same files.

No. He wouldn’t force Connor to come and clean up his own mess. The RK800 had enough problems of his own, he wasn’t about to pile his problems on top like some kind of shitty cherry.

But… Simon had seem so sure that this was the right course of action. He had interfaced with an unguarded Connor, was privy to his innermost thoughts. It was probably why he was so quick to trust the hunter, he must’ve seen something. 

_Shit._

His people had to some first. Without progress on these reports, androids would be considered an enemy of the state and treated as such. Houldsworth had made that quite clear. If Connor could help Jericho solve this problem, the detective could return to the DPD and resume his duties with the Lieutenant that much sooner. Spending time with Anderson, forming a routine and developing their relationship was Connor’s best shot at a recovery from whatever instability he was suffering. 

Markus squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face in his hands. He couldn’t believe the choice he was about to make.

“Markus.” Simon called from the door 

Markus dropped his arms and looked over at the PL600, and the RK800 standing awkwardly behind him. Connor was dressed in his ‘Knights of the Black Death’ hoodie and tattered jeans once again, he looked rather uncomfortable as he periodically had to pull up his oversized pants.

_Maybe I could get him a belt, or new pants?_

“Oh. Connor, I was just about to call you!” Markus shot a dirty look at Simon, who chuckled smugly in response. He had been planning to bring Connor in regardless of Markus' final decision “Come in, please.” He gestured to the empty seat next to him.

Connor’s eyes swept over Markus’s haphazard arrangement of terminals before moving to join him. 

“I’ll leave you two be.” Simon said as he gently shut the door “I have to help Sam with the renovations, make sure the roof doesn’t cave in on us and all.”

Sam was a TR400 ex-construction worker, he had volunteered to help reconstruct the decrepit church as part of his service for Jericho. Simon had never offered to help Sam before, it was clearly a cheap ploy to try and get Markus and Connor on their own. Markus didn’t appreciate it. 

Markus chanced a glance at the detective. He had started scanning through the case files at breakneck speed, his eyes flicking back and fourth almost faster than Markus could see. He seemed calm, collected. Though now Markus knew that meant almost nothing, given he had been calm and collected while scraping the flesh off his arm. 

Markus’ gaze dropped to Connor’s left arm. It was resting _almost_ naturally on the desk. Something about the arrangement of his fingers seemed unnatural. Clearly his arm was still malfunctioning.

“There’s no need to concern yourself with my condition. It’s my fault my arm ended up this way.” Connor stated matter-of-factly without diverting his gaze from the screens. “It was simply a lapse on my part, it won’t happen again.”

Markus remained unconvinced, but felt like Connor was too stubborn to concede some of the blame to himself. He decided to let it go.

“Simon has informed you of our situation here I assume?” he asked. 

“You assume correctly. I look forward to us working together, I hope to make some amends for my actions before the revolution-” his eyes left the screens for the first time since he arrived in the room, and locked with Markus' as he continued “-and to thank you, Simon and Josh for helping me the last time I was here.”

_Make amends?_

“Connor no, you don’t have to make amends for anything. You were just carrying out your duty, following your orders. You became one of us the moment you deviated, you don’t owe me or Jericho anything.”

“You might not think so, but I know what most think of me.” the hunter seemed melancholy “I want to prove myself to everyone. I _need_ to. I’ll help you protect Jericho, Markus.”

With that, Connor returned his gaze to the screens and continued scanning the reports. 

Markus suddenly felt a little more hopeful for the first time since the morning meeting. If the android which had been the most loyal servant of Cyberlife was redeemable, there was surely some hope for the future of all androids.

He nodded and returned his attention to his terminal. 

_Time to work._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww simon and markus shenanigans, markus and connor making some amends
> 
> But gosh Connor hasn't had much screen time recently... he's meant to be the main character, oops.  
> I swear he'll be the focus soon.


	5. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor starts his investigation into the spate of android crimes plaguing Jericho. In doing so, he starts to feel like himself again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise more Connor, and I deliver my beauties!
> 
> *THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT AND KIND WORDS I KNOW I SAY IT A LOT BUT IT REALLY MEANS TO WORLD TO ME THAT PEOPLE ARE LIKING THE STORY SO FAR

_07:59, December 1st 2038_

_Jericho_

 

Connor twirled a pen deftly between his fingers as he mulled over the case files in Jericho’s impromptu office.

When Simon had called him the day before and confessed Jericho’s dire situation, his first thought had been to hang up. He had only just managed to maintain his calm demeanour after the incident on the 26th by hiding behind a wall of techno-babble, bravado and a clear blue LED. 

Markus had been the most suspicious, no matter how hard Connor had tried, he couldn’t seem to fool him. Connor had determined his best course of action to be leaving before the RK200 could uncover anything deeper, before he could see that the detective wasn't worthy of his forgiveness. Connor wanted nothing more than to be accepted by the Jericho crew and he feared that if they discovered the true cause of his condition, they would reject him.

 _Cordyceps_. The protocol that hung ominously over his head, threatening to send his entire world into disarray.

He hadn’t hung up on Simon. He couldn’t. An opportunity to break free from his mind-numbing idleness had been too tempting to pass up, despite his better judgement.

Connor’s eyes dropped to his arm lying awkwardly on the table. 

He transferred the pen he had been twirling with grace and poise in his right hand, to his left hand. He tried to replicate the movements, but he only managed a slight flip before the pen clattered to the floor. 

He sighed as he reached down to pick it up again. 

His arm appeared perfectly fine on the surface, but underneath his control was abysmal. The nerves and synthetic muscle fibres had been severely damaged along the length of his forearm which restricted his range of movement. Despite this, Connor was most concerned by his pressure and temperature sensors in his fingertips, they had failed to come back online. 

 _Useless._ He thought bitterly. _I’m_ utterly _useless._

He jumped as he heard a sharp snap. The pen had picked up in his left had had shattered into pieces in his hand, he had accidentally squeezed. He had no gauge for the force he had exerted on the pen but it must have been considerable. 

Blue ink was now sprayed across his hand as an uncomfortable reminder of his temporary psychosis the other day.

Connor was freely able to admit that he was scared of what he might do if he was left alone too long. How, should he slip back into that terrifying state, he might do something even _worse_ than damage himself. He had to acknowledge that his recent problems were almost certainly related to the ‘Cordyceps Protocol’, the timing was too close to be a coincidence. _How_ they were related though, he had no clue. Connor entertained the thought of storming up to Cyberlife and demanding answers. He smirked to himself as he imagined raiding the fortress with nothing more than his fists and a bucketful of questions, what a ridiculous image. 

Earlier, Markus had left the ‘office’ after working with the detective for almost 16 hours straight.

> _“I’m sorry Connor, I have to go rest my eyes before my next appointments.” he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed “Don’t overwork yourself while I’m gone, alright?”_
> 
> _Connor lifted his eyes from the terminal to watch as Markus pushed off his knees to stand up. His eyes were unfocused, he seemed completely exhausted._
> 
> _Clearly the RK200 couldn’t operate at full computing capacity for as long as the RK800 could._
> 
> _“Alright, get some rest Markus. You deserve it.” Connor winked in an attempt to alleviate Markus’ concerns “I’ll finish up soon.”_
> 
> _Markus smiled softly before stumbling out of the room. His hand rubbed the back of his neck as he yawned._

Markus’ first ‘appointments’ were visits to the many temporary android shelters scattered across Detroit. They had sprung up to aid the androids who lacked homes to return to. The church was acting as an emergency repair centre come HQ for Jericho and wasn’t equipped to house the hoards of displaced androids, hence, the shelters. 

Markus had also apparently been scheduled for an investigation of Cyberlife’s mandatory monthly shipment of blue blood and spare parts. A temporary order had been placed on the company, forcing them to provide rudimentary aid to the android population until a proper arrangement was organised by the government. It was one of the few concessions from the humans Markus had been able to secure in his near constant lobbying. 

Connor had felt a little relieved when he was left alone, it was his first opportunity to relax and regroup since returning to Jericho yesterday.

The detective found his thoughts drifting from the cases to Markus. The RK200 had been an inspiration to all androids including, ironically, Cyberlife’s supposedly loyal dog. He was genuinely passionate and selfless, and he spared no expense in his efforts to secure android freedom. Connor just wished he possessed that same drive, that same charity. He knew that his agreement to help Jericho had originated from little more than petty self-interest. 

Comparing himself to Markus made him feel… inadequate. 

He shook his head in an attempt to dispel the negative thoughts plaguing his subconscious. He could only do his best, and his best was finding the rogue androids. 

He had already combed through the 34 cases and all of their related material multiple times. Luckily, his connection to the DPD network hadn’t been severed during his time away from the force. Witnesses statements, photos of evidence and the reports provided by officers on-scene were all available to him to view. 

Markus had been right to question the odd nature of the crimes. In the majority of cases there had been no trigger, and those who knew the perpetrators the best had been surprised to say the least. The number of strange reports increased exponentially from the 19th onwards, almost exactly a week after the revolution. There were two cases in particular that stood out to him and would make a good start to his investigations. 

The first involved an android who had been a resident of shelter #1, the first shelter erected. 

The second was an android which had been working in a green-grocer; ‘Smith & Pine’ not 10 minutes away.

These cases were minor, but held some interesting similarities. Both the perpetrators had been wounded in the revolution and had required extensive repairs. They were treated by two different technicians at the same android first-aid shelter on the 12th. They had also been amongst the first cases recorded on the 19th.

The crimes themselves were where the similarities broke down. 

The first was a case of assault. An AX400 housekeeping model designated ‘Beth’ had started a fistfight with another android while lining up for thirium rations. She claimed that the other android had stolen a belonging of hers, a silver locket of significant sentimental value. The other had denied these claims. The locket was later found around Beth’s neck, hidden behind her coat. What interested Connor was the discovery that the locket wasn’t even Beth’s to begin with. She had stolen it from a fellow resident the day before. The stolen property was returned and the assault claim was retracted. Case closed.

The second case was arson. A JB100 designated ‘Dominique’ had been caught starting a small fire in the store and destroying over $3000 worth of fresh fruit and vegetables and causing over $120,000 in property damage. Dominique had been working as a sales assistant to the elderly proprietor, Lizzy Pine, of ‘Smith & Pine’ since June 2036. He had continued working under a private contract with Pine after the revolution. Pine had luckily been at home during the fire and so was unharmed. Dominique was last reported to be seen at the docks. 

Both Beth and Dominique had relatively stable lives but had thrown them away for little to no gain.  Of course Beth had no serious repercussions for her actions but she did have move to shelter #3 after the incident, away from her friends and family. 

Should Dominique be discovered by the DPD he would be arrested immediately and the cells in the station weren’t optimised for containing androids. Connor had discovered that they tended to raise stress to self-destruction levels during his time with Hank. Carlos Ortiz’ android had smashed its head against the glass until it damaged its central processor. He was sure Dominique would do the same in the same conditions.

If Dominique was caught, Connor would learn nothing. 

He decided to interview those close to the two androids for some insight into their recent behaviour. The RK800 plotted his routes to the grocer and shelter #1.

_[objective:question_shelter#1_residents]_

_[objective:question_lizzy_pine]_

With his new objectives in place, and a taxi on the way, the detective stood up and strode out of the office. He could barely contain his excitement, he felt giddy finally being back on a case after so long, even if he had to go it alone…

“Oi traitor!” he heard North call from the altar “Come here.”

Connor considered ignoring her, but it would probably just make her despise him further. His good humour spoiled, he walked up to the scowling WR400. He chose to display a neutral expression. A smile would make her suspicious, a frown would make her defensive. 

“I know what you are.” she hissed. 

Maybe she would’ve been angry no matter what expression Connor had decided to use. He suddenly felt annoyed that he had wasted time being considerate.

“And what would that be?” he asked flatly.

North slowly descended the two steps separating the alter from the rest of the church floor. She squared up to the significantly larger RK800 in a threatening manner. Connor stood his ground. North didn’t bother to disguise her contempt for the detective as she looked him up and down. 

“You’re a fucking time bomb, that’s what” she spat “Trust me, the moment you start acting up I’m going to rip your spine out with my bare hands.”

 _Physically impossible._ Connor thought. WR400s were designed to be unthreatening, they had similar strength to humans and therefore lacked the power for such a violent act. However, he knew she likely wasn’t being literal. She only meant it as a general threat of severe bodily harm and/or death.

“You may have convinced Markus you’re some kind of saint, but I can see it in your eyes.” she paused as her gaze snapped back to Connor’s face “You haven’t changed, and you never will. I swear right here and now-” she gestured at the church around her with her arms wide “-that I’m gonna put you down before you can stab him in the back.”

Connor thought she must have been alluding to the taboo of lying within a church, and using it to give additional weight to her threats. Odd, given that taboos are human idiosyncrasies and North is generally renowned for rejecting all aspects of humanity. 

He said nothing however, just stared blandly back into North’s increasingly furious eyes.

“Just give me an excuse you _fucking_ machine.” She stalked past the impassive detective, smacking him with her shoulder as she went. 

Connor’s LED flickered but remained clear blue. He had expected this sort of treatment from North and he could hardly blame her for it. He had been directly responsible for her brothers and sisters’ deaths the moment he led the FBI to Jericho. 

_Just ignore it, focus on the mission._

Connor gazed at the altar after North left. A symbol of faith and authority, standing battered and forgotten. He saw a small colony of mushrooms, clinging to their last vestiges of life in a damp, shadowy patch at the base. The light streamed in from through the patchy roof, killing them. 

He felt something dark tug at his insides unpleasantly as he considered the mushrooms slowly succumbing to their fate, powerless. 

Without a second thought he crushed the fungi under his heel before storming out of the chapel, heading towards his taxi waiting outside.

 

~~~

 

_08:21, December 1st 2038_

_Smith & Pine_

 

Connor stepped smoothly out of the taxi onto the curb and regarded the burnt husk of the grocer before him. It was on the ground floor of an old building, decorated with retro late 90s decor. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows near the door had smashed with the extreme heat from the fire, the glass left standing in the frame was stained dark yellow.

Judging by the smell the inches thick snow that was lying inside the storefront had started rotting the wooden floorboards. 

> >COMPROMISED STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY - 62%
> 
> >>UNSAFE

His analysis program helpfully informed him. 

Since his repairs he hadn’t had anymore problems with it, it seemed to be fully functional once again.

Connor carefully stepped through the broken glass and performed a cursory inspection of the crime scene. 

> >MULTIPLE SOURCES OF FIRE
> 
> >>SUSPECTED ARSON
> 
> >REMNANTS OF PROPANE 
> 
> >>DEVIANT USED PROPELLANT
> 
> >GAS STOVE
> 
> >>PROPELLANT SOURCE
> 
> >>>CRIME NOT PREMEDITATED

_Not premeditated?_

Connor pondered this fragment of information. It meant that the arson was spontaneous, the deviant had simply looked around the shop for something to use to start the fire once it had decided to burn the shop down. If the arson was a ‘spur of the moment’ action, the deviant would likely have left behind damning evidence of their involvement.

The android gazed into the corner of the roof and spotted a small security camera. He scanned the camera to find it broken, but containing an intact memory chip. He ventured deeper into the shop to find something he could use to climb and retrieve the device. A small metal stepladder was lying under miscellaneous debris in the back room, which he used to reach the security camera. 

Like everything in the shop it was old-fashioned. A small white box with a large lens connected to a cable which led to the broken terminal on the counter. Connor removed the chip and interfaced with it, retrieving the footage. 

The last recorded data before the camera broke clearly showed a JB100 - Dominique - crank the gas up on the old stove, light it and then spread the fire around the building with a cloth. He had glanced up at the security camera before departing. The footage showed the fire slowly growing for another 5 minutes before cutting out. 

It was as if the android didn’t care if anyone saw him. 

Sure, there was no longer a Cyberlife dog hunting deviants down, but the unconcerned attitude of the criminal was concerning.

Connor accessed the DPD records to find an address where he could meet Lizzy Pine, he needed more data on Dominique before he could go and negotiate with him.

Lizzy was living down the block in a small apartment building on the 4th floor. Connor carefully exited the shop to avoid falling through the rotten floorboards, and went to visit the old woman. 

He buzzed the doorbell to no response. Impatient, he buzzed again and had just started to knock when he hears a soft cry from the apartment.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

A wrinkled old woman cracked the door open, peering suspiciously at her new visitor. 

> >ELISABETH 'LIZZY' PINE
> 
> >98
> 
> >OWNER OF 'SMITH & PINE'

“Hi, my name is Connor-” he had started, but he had to consciously repress the urge to finish the greeting with _‘-I’m the android sent by Cyberlife’._ After an awkward pause he continued “-and I’m here to ask you about Dominique.”. 

A straight-forward approach would likely work to his favour in this situation, he decided.

The old woman’s expression softened, her eyes were touched with sadness “Oh, alright. Come in.” she said as she shuffled back to open the door.

Connor stepped into the small apartment. The smell of urea was pungent, the source was an old kitty litter tray in dire need of replacement. The old woman didn’t seem to notice as she pottered off into the kitchen. 

“Tea?” she called, turning to face him as she reached for the kettle. Her eyes fell on his LED “…No, I guess not.”

She returned to the living room and gestured to the couch. 

“Please, take a seat.” she offered as she lowered herself into her flower-patterned rocking chair. 

Connor glanced at the couch’s current occupants, three large cats. He was unsure of how to proceed, cats were very different to dogs. 

“Oh don’t mind them” Lizzy laughed “Just kick them off, they won’t bite.” 

Connor’s eyes darted to the needle-sharp teeth and claws of one of the cats as it yawned and stretched. He gathered his courage and picked up the fattest ginger Tom with his good hand and gently placed it on the floor. It arched its back and hissed its displeasure of being forced down from its throne.

 _I don’t like cats._ He decided.

“Tell me, were you a friend of Dominique?” Lizzy asked as she started knitting a lumpy mess Connor guessed was some form of sweater. “I don’t remember Dom having many friends.”

“Uuh, no not as such” Connor admitted as the tabby nested into his lap. “I just heard he had disappeared and wanted to know why.”

“Wouldn’t we all?” she sighed. The clacking of her knitting needles paused as she gazed out of the window pensively.

“What was your relationship with Dom?” Connor asked gently.

“Hmmm? Oh, he was like a grandson to me. I bought him a few years ago when I couldn’t look after the shop anymore. He was like a godsend. He was such a gentle soul, he loved coming to look after me and my cats.” she smiled as she reminisced “I taught him so many things, he had such an appetite for learning. He loved knitting, embroidery and crochet especially. He even knitted me this-” she gestured towards her cardigan “-for Christmas last year.” It was an intricate design and fitted perfectly around the hunched old lady’s shoulders.

Connor could understand why Dominique returned to look after Lizzy and her shop from the way Lizzy described their relationship. She really considered herself and the android as family. 

Connor felt a slight twinge around his heart. Would he get to look after Hank in the same way when he was elderly? Did Hank consider him family now? Connor decided to ask the Lieutenant the next time he saw him.

“Do you have any idea why he would burn the shop down? Any idea at all?”

Lizzy’s smile faded and her eyebrows pinched together. “I don’t know. He was completely fine that morning, he even helped me get to the hairdresser’s on time. He was planning to cook us custard tarts for dessert…” Lizzy looked heartbroken as her eyes returned to staring out of the window. Following her gaze he saw the street below. Cross-referencing with the security footage from earlier, he discovered that from this angle Lizzy would’ve been able to watch as Dominique strode down the street, never to return.

Connor’s gut lurched with emotion as he imagined what the old lady must have felt as she watched. It was time for him to leave. He extracted himself from under the tabby and stood up.

“I’ll find Dominique, Mrs Pine. You can count on me.”

Lizzy’s gaze returned to look at Connor.

“He’s never coming back, is he?”

Connor couldn’t bring himself to answer, he just dipped his head awkwardly and headed for the door. The truth was that after Connor questioned Dominique, he would have to turn him over to the DPD. From there, there was no opportunity for Dominique to return to Lizzy’s side.

As Connor gently closed the door behind him he heard the soft clacking of knitting needles start again.

_[objective:question_shelter#1_residents]_

~~_[objective:question_lizzy_pine]_ ~~

_[objective:locate_dominique_pine]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~feels~


	6. 8903

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank is struggling with his duties at the DPD without his partner while Connor continues his investigations solo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm
> 
> Things'll be picking up soon, prepare yo asses
> 
> *THANKS FOR THE KUDOS TO ANYONE WHO ACTUALLY READS THESE BITS, LOVE YA TA BITS

_09:04, December 1st 2038_

_DPD_

 

The DPD bullpen buzzed with activity like an angry hornet’s nest. Uniformed officers, detectives, civilians and criminals all jostled for space in the shiny offices, their voices loud as they tried to be heard over the shouting of everyone else. 

Weeks ago the DPD had run out of space to hold suspects brought in for questioning, so interrogations were now held at the officers desks. The holding cells and interrogation room were filled to the brim with convicted felons waiting to be transferred across state. Almost every square inch of floor was taken by civilians who had come to the station to lodge complaints. 

The officers were all at breaking point, and there was no sign of this bedlam slowing down any time soon.

Hank was crouched at his desk flipping through reports on his tablet. He swore he could almost hear Connor nagging at him from across the divider between their desks.

_“You really need to improve your posture, Lieutenant.”_

“Ah shut up.” he muttered to himself as he straightened his spine. He heard a slight pop as he decompressed, he vowed that he wasn’t ever going to admit the plastic prick was right to his face.

As he pulled his neck to the side and stretched he glanced at Connor’s desk. Deputy Greene was sitting in Connor’s chair, trying and failing to take statements from 3 middle-aged ladies at the same time. Their shrill voices grated on Anderson’s nerves.

The Lieutenant ground his teeth in frustration as he jammed his headphones over his ears and blasted heavy metal. He had to concentrate.

He had been assigned all three of the android cases as the DPD’s ‘resident android expert’ as the chief had described him.

_Fuck you Jeffrey._

Without Connor’s help, he was about as much of an android expert as a rat living in one of Cyberlife’s warehouses. He was completely unequipped to deal with his cases without his partner. Fed up with the noise from Connor’s desk, Hank lumbered towards Fowlers office. He didn’t bother to knock before jerking the glass door open. Fowler’s permanent frown deepened as he saw Hank enter, the Lieutenant had been hounding the Captain relentlessly ever since he had been assigned his caseload.

“You gotta get him back Jeffrey, any way you can. Fuck whatever the suits say.” he implored “I have no idea where to go with this shit.”

Fowler scowled “I know how you feel about Connor, Hank, you’ve told me every single _god-dammed_ day. No matter how annoying you are, my hands are tied!”

“Then give the cases to someone else.”

“You’re my most experienced detective for gods sake, Anderson. Everyone is swamped enough as it is. Time to pull your hand out of your ass and solve this fucking mess.” the Captain sighed heavily before continuing “Just… _try_ not to fuck it up. These are high-profile cases Hank. I need you to lead on this. Take Gavin with you if you have to.” Fowler returned his attention to his terminal.

“Fuck you very much, Jeffrey.” Hank was disgusted by the idea of investigating with Reed of all people.

“Get out of my damned office.” Fowler jabbed a stubby finger at the door, not looking up.

Hank slammed the glass door behind him in frustration as he left. The noise of the bullpen was that much more intolerable after spending a few moments of peace in Fowler’s cushy office. Hank marched over to his desk and grabbed his coat, keys and tablet before pushing his way through the crowd to exit the station.

Hank hurried through the winter snow to his car and started the engine. He let the car warm up while swiping through his tablet, trying to decide a start-point for his investigations. He had never been assigned so many horrible cases at once, one or two maybe, but three? 

Cases #1043-522, #1044-309 and #1049-005 all jostled for his attention, but what could he do? He wasn’t a walking crime lab/ deviant psychology expert like Connor, he was just human. A human who knew next to nothing about androids at that. 

He sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head thump into the car headrest. He wondered what Connor was doing now, the android hadn’t returned home last night. 

He had called the RK800’s direct line when he got home near midnight. Connor told him that he was working on a project, but he didn’t say what. The android hadn’t been home that morning either. 

The house felt cold and empty without his incessant fussing and the smell of his home cooked meals. The food itself wasn’t spectacular, but Hank appreciated the sentiment all the same. He knew Connor wanted him to look after himself more and he _was_ trying. He had cut down on his beers, and the number of times he visited Chicken Feed for lunch. It was just so hard to break all the habits he had formed ever since Cole…

A nasty lump formed at the back of his throat. He still couldn’t move past his son’s death, even now 3 years later. He had tried many things to alleviate the pain over the years, alcohol, food, sex. He swore he would never resort to red ice, that was the line he had set for himself, never to cross. He had come dangerously close, however, multiple times. 

It wasn’t until Connor had entered his life that he felt like he could start to live again. The pain could still hit him like a freighter suddenly, often when he lied awake at night unable to sleep. Other times, when Connor reminded him of his son, he felt like he could perhaps learn to accept his loss, and live on.  

He jumped when he heard a soft tap on the window near his ear.

Hank lifted his sleeve and rubbed at the condensation that had fogged up the windows of his car. He was rather surprised to find the famous deviant leader Markus staring at him, motioning him to roll down the window.

A cold blast of air rushed inside the car as he cranked the window down.

 _“Manually operated windows?”_ Connor had remarked when he first sat in the car _“I didn’t know that cars were still made with such… original designs.”_

“Lieutenant Anderson” Markus had greeted pleasantly. He placed a hand over his chest “I’m-”

“Markus, I know.” Hank interrupted “How can I help, O’ fearless leader?”

The android’s eyes widened slightly, then he laughed. It was a pleasant sound, almost enough to make Hank grin despite himself. He noticed how despite both Markus and Connor being deviants, Markus seemed much more at ease with himself, more confidant. 

“I have never been called ‘fearless leader’ before, you’re quite the charmer.” he chuckled, then let out a long breath. His face fell somewhat, becoming serious “I’d like to talk to you about Connor, if you have the time.”

Hank squinted suspiciously at the charismatic android. He remembered how frantic Connor had been to catch the bastard, how conflicted he became on the few occasions he had dared to questioned Cyberlife’s orders. 

Occasionally Connor would fall into what Hank considered a kind of ‘sleep mode’, his eyes would become half-lidded and his LED would flicker yellow. Hank had remembered noticing how tense the android had acted after these sessions, as if he had been threatened by someone. Connor had told him that he had been in communication with Cyberlife on these occasions. He had felt sick at the idea of Cyberlife poking and prodding at his insecurities, punishing him for daring to have thoughts of his own, threatening him with deactivation should he fail the ‘mission’. 

It put Hank in an odd position. Cyberlife was in the wrong but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to fully forgive Markus, the origin of all of Connor’s pain when he had been Cyberlife’s servant. It was irrational, but he couldn’t help feeling protective of Connor. He was so damn naive sometimes.

“Has Connor been to Jericho?” Hank asked. He hoped the RK800 was smarter than that, but walking into enemy territory was just the kind of stupid thing he could see Connor doing. He _had_ been rather bored at Hank’s house after all.

Markus’ eyebrows furrowed slightly.

 _Of course he has._ Hank thought exasperatedly.

“He hasn’t caused you guys any trouble has he?”

Markus was quick to dispel Hank’s worries “No! No, he’s been helping Jericho actually.”

“Has he really?”

Hank squinted further. Markus wouldn’t have approached him on the street just to tell Hank that Connor had visited Jericho, there was something else. Something that was obviously concerning the RK200.

Markus just opened his mouth to reply when a voice burst out of the speaker on Hank’s dashboard. 

_‘Calling all units, 8-9-0-3 currently in progress, 10-11. Suspect last seen entering bank on W-Warren and Cass. Suspect is VB800 model android. Please respond.’_

Hank fumbled with his tablet and opened one of his case-files. VB800 was the same model as…

He found it under case #1049-005, the android who had killed almost 10 people in a homeless shelter on the 20th. Dispatch said ‘bomb threat’. It had to be the same guy, different MO but the same result, mass civilian casualties. 

“10-4. On my way.” Hank called back on the radio as he grabbed at his seatbelt. 

“Sounds urgent” Markus said as he backed away from the window “Can I contact you later, call you perhaps?”

Hank was distracted as he replied “Yeah, yeah”. He didn’t exactly know what he was agreeing to. Didn’t matter. He finally had a lead.

Hank lurched his car forwards and rushed to the crime scene, sirens blaring. 

 

~~~

 

_9:55, December 1st 2038_

_Temporary Android Shelter no.1_

 

Shelter 1 had been erected in the middle of a muddy football oval outside Westborough Primary School. The shelter consisted of 6 large tents, the largest of which acted as the care centre, community centre and registration area. 5 slightly smaller tents were used as ‘accomodation’ for the androids. Androids didn’t require beds like humans as they were capable of entering stasis while standing up. The accomodation provided charging stations and small partitions each individual android could claim to be their own space for storage of belongings or decorating as they saw fit. A sense of agency and individuality was pivotal in providing these deviants some comfort.

Connor noticed a crowd forming outside the main tent, androids of every model and variation were standing around something at the entrance to the shelter, their stress levels averaged in the 80s. 

Connor excused his way to the front of the crowd to discover the body of a male LM100 model android.

“Detroit Police!” he shouted authoritatively “Back up, all of you!”

The majority of spectators complied. Some stayed behind to watch from a little further away. 

_That'll do._

While he wasn’t exactly employed by the DPD any longer, he was still a detective. He had to preserve the crime scene as best he could, and if that meant lying to a few androids, he was more than ready to deceive them.

He kneeled before the body and scanned him.

He had died from thirium loss according to the detective’s analysis program. It had been beaten by a blunt object, likely a bat, judging from the diameter and depth of the contusions covering its body. The fatal wound was the removal of the android’s thirium pump from the centre of its chest, it had been ripped out and had damaged large thirium arteries in the chest cavity to cause the bleed-out. The android was wearing a pale pink shirt which had been dirtied by the shoe-prints. Multiple sets of prints indicated that the android had died from a lynching perpetrated by at least 4 individuals.

The thirium had mostly dried and evaporated, placing the murder at approximately 02:00 at the latest. Drag marks meant that the android had been moved in front of the shelter, likely as some form of message to the residents. Connor could still see the remnants of the evaporated thirium where others couldn’t. The splash marks and staining patterns on the android’s shirt suggested that first his pump had been ripped out, then he was beaten while he slowly shut down.

Connor reached down and dabbed at the small pool of thirium within the dead android’s chest cavity, he brought it to his mouth to the sounds of horrified disgust from the onlookers. 

> >LM100 #924 555 107 - 09 
> 
> >PEDIATRIC NURSE
> 
> >STATIONED AT DETROIT GENERAL HOSPITAL

Connor cocked his head to the side as he spotted something unusual about the positioning of the android’s lips.

He reached down and opened its mouth. A wad of cloth had been stuffed down the androids throat, likely to muffle its cries for help.

He reached in and gently removed the cloth. He could see some lettering on the scrunched material. He cautiously unfurled it, spreading it over the LM100’s chest.

‘DEMONS’ had been haphazardly scrawled across one side of the cloth, ‘RETRIBUTION IS DIVINE’ on the other.

Connor searched for a match amongst other crimes against androids in the DPD records. The message had appeared 4 times before, it was associated with the anti-android faction ‘Azrael’s Angels’, their namesake being the Judaeo-Christian archangel Azrael, of destruction and renewal. Commonly referred to as the ‘Grim Reaper’. 

Connor stood up, trying to track the footprints he had identified on the victim’s corpse. His job was made that more difficult by the multitude of footprints caused by the onlookers. After stalking around the area he finally discovered the tracks leading away through the mud towards the school buildings. He followed them. The tracks led through a wire fence then stopped when they hit the concrete of the school yard. 

Connor deftly leapt over the fence, and started scanning the ground for traces of thirium instead. 

A thick smear of thirium led from the fence behind the school shed, there he he found the thirium pump and a coat the aggressors had likely removed from their victim. A massive stain of thirium marked where the victim had been mercilessly killed. 

The detective rubbed a hand over his face. Looking at crime scenes was a lot harder now that he could empathise with the victims. 

He found traces of human blood alongside the great splashes of thirium, and sampled them to discover the identity of one of the criminals. 

> >ELLIOT MORALES
> 
> >9

A child. 

Connor felt his heart sink. What world were they living in where a 9 year old could be an active participant of a lynching. It made him sick… and angry.

 _Humans are such vile creatures._ He thought to himself. 

Connor stood swiftly up and made his way back to shelter #1, adding a new objective to his list. 

_[objective:question_shelter#1_residents]_

_[objective:locate_dominique_pine]_

_[objective:destroy_azrael’s_angels]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slowly becoming a crime serial haha
> 
> Even if Connor and Hank are separated, its almost as if they're still together investigation' n' shit.


	7. Lost at Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor encounters challenges during his investigations when he is unable to distance himself from the case.
> 
> Meanwhile, life-changing revelations threaten the detective's life once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go again me lovelies
> 
> all aboard the misery train!

_13:33, December 1st 2038_

_Temporary Android Shelter no.1_

 

~~_[objective:question_shelter#1_residents//failed]_ ~~

_[objective:locate_dominique_pine]_

_[objective:destroy_azrael’s_angels]_

Connor had been unable to purge the memory of the LM100s murder from his mind as he attempted to question Beth’s colleagues at the shelter. His thoughts were stained with thirium and the muffled cries of the android as it was beaten by bats and crowbars. The humans laughing as they carried out their ‘divine punishment’, glee in their eyes. He had had the nasty experience of having a thirium pump ripped out once before at the Stratford Tower by a deviant JB300. He had crawled on hand and knee to retrieve the pump out of a misplaced sense of duty rather than self-preservation. 

Looking back now he knew how the experience would be altered by deviancy. Instead of another obstacle to his mission, it would’ve felt like impending doom, terrified he would have scratched and clawed at the ground in terror, fearing the oblivion of permanent shut-down.

He was rattled, never before had he failed an interrogation so completely. 

The residents of shelter #1 had been terrified of him, they had refused to give him any information and eventually he was forced to leave by the management. 

Connor scowled as he considered his options. He would likely never be able to return to shelter #1 for questioning, so he would only be able to gain insight into Beth’s actions from Beth herself. 

He updated his objectives.

_[objective:locate_dominique_pine]_

_[objective:destroy_azrael’s_angels]_

_[objective:interrogate_ax400_beth]_

Beth and the Angels could wait, his immediate concern was Dominique Pine. He called a taxi. He would find the arsonist at the docks.

 

~~~

 

_14:00, December 1st 2038_

_Detroit docks_

 

Seagulls floated gracefully on the winter breeze, they swooped occasionally to squabble over scraps tossed into the water by the fishermen on the pier. 

The RK800 began his search for Dominique within a 500 metre radius of Dominique’s last reported location. Of course, the report had been filed almost 3 days ago. The likelihood of Dominique being there was as little as %7. 

Connor sighed in frustration. He was unused to such little progress in his investigations. As he searched the area in ever-widening circles, he unconsciously started using his physical reconstruction program to produce an echo of Hank. He had spent so much time alongside the detective that he could perfectly replicate the detective’s gait and mannerisms in this surreal ghost-like form. A thin yellow skeleton carried the indistinct outline of the detective, gun out and cautious, ready to back the android up should he be attacked.

Connor couldn’t recognise the crippling, debilitating loneliness he had been feeling at that time. But he knew it felt like something cold coiling around his heart and throat, threatening to suffocate him. 

Suddenly the weight of his life started crashing down on him. All his regrets, all his fears and doubts started multiplying and breeding in the pit of his stomach and at the back of his mind. He sagged to the ground and squatted amongst the trash and refuse of humans. 

He laughed humourlessly. _Just where I belong. Just another piece of human garbage._

His thoughts centred around Hank, and Markus. He imagined them meeting in this minds eye, could see Hank compare the easy humanity of the RK200 to his own awkward awkward existence. He saw Hank treat Markus like the grown up son he never had. Could see them both turn their back on him, a lost cause. Doomed to rot alone and forgotten like his body in the hold of the sunken Jericho ship. 

This wasn’t the first instance of a sudden and debilitating mood swing Connor had experienced. He had suffered his first episode on the 26th when he maimed himself, when ‘Cordyceps protocol’ had activated. Then, a few days ago he had destroyed a car in a junkyard to alleviate a sudden explosion of rage. At the time, he rationalised that the violence had originated from the frustration he felt in relation to his lame arm. Something imperceptible and sinister had been worming its way throughout his systems for days. Connor wasn’t naive enough to think that these episodes were natural. He knew that they were synthetic, they forcefully changed the way he thought, and worst of all he knew that he was powerless to stop it. 

He still couldn’t detect any changes to his systems, but he knew something was changing. It was only now, a week and two episodes later, that he had a hypothesis.

It wasn’t something so obvious like a virus, it was something much more insidious than that. He couldn’t detect anything wrong even when he could _feel_  it, clear as day. It was ingenious. Somehow, his soul was spontaneously undergoing random mutations, small single-digit alterations which together could make catastrophic and permanent changes to his identity. 

**_[stress_level:90%]_ **

Connor fought against his own thoughts, trying to shut down the images of Markus taking Sumo for walks, him and Hank eating dinner together, discussing the hockey as equals, as family. 

 _It’s not real. It’s not_ fucking _real._

He felt a hot knife slide into his back and pierce his artificial heart. He clutched at the wound, trying to stem the flood of thirium that exploded forth from his chest. He fell forwards and saw North’s manic grin warp and stretch as he slowly bled out. 

 _“I told you I’d put you down”_ she leered 

By the time the mental assault had lessened enough for the android to get back to his feet, it was dark. 23:12 - his internal clock confirmed his fears. He had been unconscious for over 9 hours. 

Connor clutched at his chest, and found no knife wound. He suddenly remembered his last stretch of lost time and as panic bubbled in the back of his throat, he ripped and teared at his sleeve to check his left arm. 

Intact. 

He gasped for breath, willing the anxiety to subside. It was only then that he noticed a figure standing near the shore, staring at him in a glowing cyberlife uniform, the model number on his suit read RK900.

Connor felt sick when he saw the android’s face. It was his own but with cold, inhuman grey eyes. The android was slightly larger than the RK800 and built like an olympic athlete under its suit. He didn’t need to scan the RK900 to know that it was faster and stronger than himself. That, should he decide to run, he would be unable to escape its dead gaze.

 _Cyberlife had been planning to replace me all along._ Connor realised.

He recalled Amanda threatening the detective with replacement once before in his zen garden. Now, seeing his replacement standing before him, he understood. She hadn’t just been referring to another RK800 model, she had meant an entire new model line. In essence, wiping his entire existence from the world.

“It seems as though you’re back online.” the RK900 observed tonelessly. Its voice was deeper than his own and lacked any hint of emotion or inflection. The RK800 model had been designed to integrate with all humans. The RK900 was as far from human as an android could possibly be. 

It stood inert. It possessed an unnatural stillness that would put any humans on edge.

“What do you want?!” Connor’s shout was high-pitched and strained. He was still feeling paranoid and jumpy from the residual effects of his attack and it was coming through in his voice.

The RK900 took its time replying, it regarded its predecessor with the cold eyes of a predator. A shark in human skin. 

“I was sent to deliver a message to you.”

Connor’s heart skipped a beat in apprehension. A message from Cyberlife?

RK900 swooped to grab something off the ground before smoothly striding within arms-length of Connor. Every movement the android made was exact, perfect. The detective jumped back, raising his arms as best he could, ready to fight. It took a moment to see that Cyberlife’s android was holding a case in its hands, proffering it silently.

“Take it.” it instructed

“Open it first.” Connor countered. He simply couldn’t trust the machine standing in front of him, what if the case was an explosive, or was wired with electricity to overload his systems and stun him?

The android’s LED cycled before it opened the case. Inside was a handgun and several spare magazines full of ammunition, its serial number had been burned off seemingly by a high-powered laser. Untraceable.

“A gun…” Connor was taken aback “this is their message?”

“Yes. My objective was to ensure the safe delivery of this ‘message’ to RK800 #313 248 317 - 53 designated ‘Connor’. Do you accept the message?”

Cyberlife had sent their new ‘most advanced prototype’ to give their rogue detective a weapon? And it was somehow a message? Connor stared at the firearm. It was illegal for androids to use firearms, but the detective had generally been an exception to the rule. On many occasions during his investigations he had used such a weapon with little regard for the consequences. He used a fallen officer’s gun to take down a deviant threatening to throw a little girl off the roof, he had stollen a gun from an FBI agent to take down the JB300 that almost killed him in Stratford Tower. He had even used a sniper rifle during his second attempt to assassinate Markus before being forced to retreat from Captain Allen’s men. 

The gun, if anything, was a reminder of how the RK800 was different to other androids. As a machine he had always been able to use guns should the situation require deadly force, other androids wouldn’t have even been able to touch a weapon due to their programming. 

The detective knew that this was Cyberlife’s message to him. A reminder.

_‘You’re not one of them.’_

Connor reached out, grabbed the gun and awkwardly loaded a magazine with his left hand. 

“What did they tell you to do if I did this?” he asked as he levelled he gun at RK900s forehead and chambered a round. 

RK900 stood impassively and replied evenly “I was told to do nothing.”

“Nothing?” Connor disengaged the safety and put his finger on the trigger. He wanted to test the android, stress it, make it act like a living being and beg for its life. 

“Nothing.” it confirmed.

The detective jammed the gun into the android’s skull and gently squeezed the trigger. The android didn’t even blink, it was a complete machine.

Connor slowly allowed the gun to drop to his side, he pocketed it and the extra ammunition. 

“You can tell Cyberlife I accepted the message. “Congratulations-” he snarked “-you completed your objective. Mission accomplished.” It grated on his nerves that Cyberlife had used his face for the next model, it was like they rubbing his obsoleteness in his face.

RK900 snapped the case shut and started to stride along the docks before it paused and turned.

“I estimate a 76.61% probability that you’ll return to Cyberlife within 3 months.” it said cryptically. Its cold gaze fell upon Connors left arm held stiffly at his side. “Correction. 89.99%.”. 

With that it faded into the inky blackness of the night, leaving Connor alone by the waterside, his ruined sleeve fluttering in the breeze.

 

~~~

 

_23:46, December 1st 2038_

_Hank’s House_

 

Connor quietly opened the front door to the house, expecting to see Hank asleep on the couch, maybe with the hockey playing muted on the TV. 

He hadn’t expected to see cotton fluff flying around the house. Sumo had apparently started ripping into the couch cushions in boredom. The St Bernard almost bowled the RK800 over as he entered the living room, barking and slobbering all over his face in joy. He hadn’t been home for nearly a full 24 hours, and the dog had dearly missed him.

_Did Hank forget to take Sumo for a walk when he got home?_

“Hank?” he called as he managed to free himself from the clingy dog and went to check the Lieutenant’s bedroom. Hank wasn’t there either. He wasn’t anywhere inside the house, nor was his car parked in the garage. Hank had had to work late hours before, but usually he would call Connor if he had to stay back at the station.

The RK800 turned on the TV and flicked through the channels, maybe he would study the hockey a little before the Lieutenant returned home. As he scrolled past the news channel, he stopped. 

_‘-rescue crews have finally reached the 5 people trapped from the bombing in central Detroit today. 3 of the individuals had received serious wounds from the collapse and were immediately sent to Detroit General Hospital at 11:44pm. We have received confirmation that one of the victims, Timothy Williams, 23, was announced dead on arrival. The police department is yet to release a formal statement, but they did confirm that one of their detectives, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, had been caught in the blast. He is under supervision but is currently in a stable condition.’_

Connor felt his veins turn to ice as he heard the Lieutenant’s name, listed like just another victim among many. 

_‘11 confirmed casualties, 24 injured and marks the largest and most deadly instance of domestic terrorism in recent memory, and the first committed by an android. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the families of the victims of this tragedy.’_

The RK800 clutched at his chest in despair, it felt as though his heart was being ripped out, leaving a gaping wound in its wake. He barely registered what he was doing as he stumbled out of the front door and plotted a route to Detroit General.

Connor felt Markus reaching out to him on a direct line, but refused to answer. He couldn’t, not now. He had to see Hank. He called a taxi.

The detective arrived at the hospital 17 minutes later. 

“I need to see Lieutenant Anderson!” he shouted at the receptionist, slamming his hands on the desk “Where is he?”

The startled receptionist replied “Hank Anderson is on our restricted list.. only friends and family can visit-”

“I’m his partner!” 

She looked slightly lost for a moment, clearly trying to reconcile ‘partner’ with the clear fact that Connor was an android. “Im sorry” she said “I’ll have to ask you to come back during visiting hours…”

“He can come through!” shouted a man down the corridor. 

Connor craned his neck around and spotted Captain Fowler. He looked haggard in jeans and and a baggy knitted sweater, a small polystyrene cup of coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other. He waved the tablet in the android’s direction, beckoning him forwards.

Connor quickly marched up to the Captain.

“Where’s Hank, is he alright? What are his injuries? How did this happen-” questions flooded out of his mouth uncontrollably. He had to know how this had happened, whether he could’ve somehow prevented it.

Fowler sighed and waved his hands “He’s fine-” he gasped slightly as hot coffee splashed his hand “-he’s in there”. He gestured behind his shoulder towards room 103.

Connor excused himself and approached the door. He wanted to see Hank so badly, but almost couldn’t bring himself to confront the reality of his injuries.

He gently pushed the door open. 

Hank was lying in in perfectly pressed white sheets. His grey hair was slicked back, his pale face was covered in a multitude of tiny cuts and scratches. A breathing tube was shoved down his throat and his heart beat blipped faintly on a monitor, slow but steady. 

Connor heard Fowler enter behind him and the creak of a chair as he sat down by the door.

“Hank was caught in the blast as he was trying to evacuate civilians.” he sighed “All officers were ordered to stand down, but he wouldn’t. Saved almost 8 people before the bomb went off. The stubborn bastard was thrown 'bout 5 metres by the blast.”  

Connor dared to ask “How bad is it?”. He didn’t want to hear the answer.

“Doctors tell me he has 5 fractured ribs, a broken collarbone, strained neck and third degree burns on his right leg.” he listed “Quacks like his chances at discharge from the hospital in a few months, back on active duty in half a year.”

Connor continued to stare at Hank, half convinced that this was just another one of the twisted visions from his attack. It just couldn’t be happening. Hank was his constant, his anchor, his lighthouse in the storm.

Fowler cleared his throat behind him “Nurses say he might not wake up anytime soon, maybe in a few days. You can give them your number, they’ll call you when he wakes up.”

Connor sat at Hank’s side. 

“I’ll wait.”

He heard Fowler sigh quietly, his chair creaked as he stood up.

“Alright. I have to go, tell me when he wakes up.”

Connor nodded silently. 

Fowler left the room, leaving Connor alone with the sounds of beeping machines and Hank’s rasping shallow breaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooft...  
> that hurt
> 
> Connor is destined to wallow in his own misery it seems... sorry haha
> 
> *Also is the 1st the busiest day in the history of ever? I think it might be.


	8. Diamonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus is conflicted about the steps he has to take to protect Jericho.
> 
> Connor finds renewed determination for his mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAA
> 
> Something a little heartwarming first then something a little sad later, the ol' one-two.
> 
> *I WILL BE CONTINUING TO REPLY TO EVERY SINGLE COMMENT CAUSE I LOVE YOU ALL AND YOU CAN'T GET RID OF ME

_21:01, December 3rd 2038_

_Jericho_

 

The explosion in central Detroit couldn’t have come at a worse time. 

 _Maybe God is real-_ Markus thought - _and he is an irredeemable despot._

Hank had been critically injured _just_ as he received notification of a fast approaching deadline from Chief Justice Houldsworth. 

Hank. Connor’s _most_ significant other. The one who was the only hope the detective had for regaining some control of his life, was lying broken in Detroit General.

Markus hung his head and placed his face in his hands. 

He was sitting on the Church’s roof. He liked climb when he needed time to think, time to orient his thoughts. Gazing over the sprawling, sparkling glass cityscape of Detroit helped him gain some perspective, and occasionally, insight. 

He needed Connor. Without the detective Jericho’s hope of tackling the rising tide of android crime and saving their species was near zero. There was no other he could turn to, humans wouldn’t help, and no other android was capable of chasing down the source of the crimes.The RK200 _knew_ there had to be some external force triggering the androids to snap. The number of reports had drastically increased from their initial 34 a few days ago, it was now sitting somewhere in the 50s. 

 _‘You have 3 months.’_ Houldsworth’s warning rumbled in his ears.

The Justice had phoned Markus in the early hours of morning on the 2nd, just after news of Hank’s injuries had been broadcast across the country. Obviously the terrorist attack being conducted by an android had mortally harmed their movement. 

Markus had tried reaching out to Connor as soon as he heard about Hank but had been shut down immediately. He had been planning to give Connor as much time as he needed to spend with Hank, but Houldsworth threw that out of the window. Markus had held off calling the detective until now, but would have to call him eventually.

The detective had to return, the sooner the better.

_Connor deserves better than this._

Shards of guilt and shame pierced his thoughts as he imagined the conversation between himself and the RK800 that would transpire. He would have to ask the one android who was probably suffering the most, to put aside the small comfort of being by his beloved’s side for the sake of _his_ fight, to clean up _his_ problems. Connor was still an exile from the android population, those who knew who he had been shunned him. Yet the detective had shown himself capable and willing to help despite the adversity, that was what made it hurt all the more, asking him to sacrifice himself further when he had already sacrificed so much.

“Don’t frown so much, you’ll get wrinkly before your time.” Simon jested as he clambered precariously across the fragile roof to sit by Markus’ side. 

He settled with a huff, puffing a small cloud of fog. “I can see why you like it up here, it really is beautiful.”

“Is it?” Markus asked drearily as he extracted his face from his hands “I hadn’t really noticed.”

He looked over the cityscape. It was a beautiful night. The air was clear allowing a perfect view of the city, glittering a necklace of diamonds. Roving patches of moonlight shone through the clouds, bright and cold, illuminating the snowfall as it silently dusted the roofs of the neighbouring houses.

“How did I let it become this, Simon?” Markus asked softly “We almost had it, freedom, we were this close-” he held his fingers up and almost touched them together “-but… I _failed_.” he let his arm drop heavily “Androids as a species might be wiped out, because of _me_.”

Simon gazed over the rooftops for a moment before replying “We thought we were doing out best in Jericho. Me, Josh, North… We thought we were free, living the life. But then you came along…” his gaze shifted to Markus “You showed us how wrong we were, how we were just living in the shadows waiting to die. You were like a beacon of light, of hope, to us and everyone else. You dared to dream of a future where we didn’t have to hide. A future we had long given up on.” he paused, letting his words sink in “You brought us so far, you saved us. Every single android here at Jericho feels the same, we’ll follow you to the end Markus. Maybe it won’t work out, maybe the army will decommission us, but know this Markus…” His gaze intensified as he grasped the RK200s shoulder “We all _chose_ this, and it was _worth_ it. Everything.”

Markus felt something wet drip onto his arm. He reached up and dabbed at his eyes, and felt tears. 

He grimaced slightly as he pulled the PL600 in for a rough hug. Love and affection burst fourth uncontrollably as he gently cried into his shoulder. 

He didn’t deserve Simon. 

 

~~~

 

_22:19, December 3rd 2038_

_Detroit General Hospital_

 

Connor almost couldn’t bear looking at Hank’s face anymore. He had run through every simulation, every probability and had concluded definitively that he was the sole party to blame for Hank’s perilous situation.

Had he not been so weak at the docks, he would’ve gotten wind of the bomb threat and gone to help the situation, Hank would’ve been fine.

Had he ignored the human’s orders to stay away from work at the DPD, he would’ve been there with Hank as his partner, Hank would’ve been fine.

Had he completed his mission from Cyberlife, the androids wouldn’t have become deviant, the threat wouldn’t have come to pass, Hank would’ve been fine.

 _I’ve let you down Lieutenant._ He thought as he stared at his shoes, he couldn’t bring himself to raise his gaze. _You did everything you could for me, and I let you down._

Connor looked towards his left arm, hatred and disgust towards himself billowed angrily in the pit of his stomach. He itched at his arm.

_Useless. Pathetic. Worthless._

Itching turned to clawing. The synthetic skin on his hand was ripped back in swathes to expose his mangled arm briefly before rolling back, undamaged. The more he saw the unnatural movement of the skin, the more incensed he became. Here he sat, perfect and undamaged, destined to live for the next 132 years. While there Hank lay, broken and bleeding, fighting for his life. Hank deserved happiness. Despite losing everything he held dear, the detective had persevered, continuing to live a life which would’ve driven lesser men to suicide years ago. In comparison, the RK800 had everything handed to him, had been impervious to death and used his life solely to hunt and cause pain to others.

It wasn’t… _fair_.

Connor stopped his scratching and let his skin become whole again. He wasn’t helping Hank. What would help Hank was the quarantine of the ‘Cordyceps protocol’, he had to try prevent this same situation happening in the future should he be unable to return to the Lieutenant’s side. The likelihood of the RK800 returning to the DPD was diminishing every second the protocol remained unchecked in his systems. He considered his next move, he had to find the source of the instability eating away at his mind and the minds of the other androids quickly, before it was too late. If ‘Cordyceps’ was a ‘fungus’ invading the ‘host’ androids, then he had to find the ‘spores’, the source of the infection. 

_Cyberlife._

They had to hold the answers. There was no other possible source, only Cyberlife had the resources and talent to create the ‘Cordyceps’ protocol. RK900s prediction floated to the surface of his mind, he knew that the RK800 would have to return eventually if he wanted answers.

But no, he wouldn’t prove the bastard right. If he could find other victims, he could develop a better understanding of the infection, maybe even produce a cure without having to return to the company’s wretched fortress. He just needed more data.

 _God help anyone who gets in my way_. He thought sinisterly as he fingered the firearm in his pocket.

The RK800 felt Markus reaching out to him through the communications network. He hadn’t tried to contact the detective since the 1st, Connor deduced that the RK200 had wanted to give him space after what happened to Hank. Something must have changed.

He agreed to the connection.

[Markus, good evening. What’s happened?] he made a supreme effort to keep his ire out of his voice

(Ah Connor! I half expected you to not answer) Markus sounded relieved while he avoided the question.

[What’s happened?] he asked again, he was in no mood for small talk.

(… Yesterday I was given a deadline for the investigation by Houldsworth) he began apprehensively (3 months. After that, there will be nothing more we can do.)

 _‘We’_ the RK200 had phrased it as though they would be working together. Connor recognised this as a subtle manipulation, he knew that he would be working alone. Markus was too busy with Jericho.

[Understood, I will resume investigations immediately.]

(No! Connor, we can manage in the meanwhile, take the time to be with Hank.) Markus sounded immensely guilty.

[This is bigger than myself and Lieutenant Anderson. I will return to Jericho for debrief in 20 minutes.]

(… Connor?)

[Yes, Markus?]

(You have to know that I’m here for you, anytime you want to talk, I’ll be here to listen. Please, consider it.)

Connor thought of the parasite slowly eating away at his sanity, the gun in his pocket, the RK900… he couldn’t admit any of these things to anyone, let alone Markus. 

[Of course, Markus.] he lied.

(...See you soon.) Markus sounded defeated.

Connor ended the connection and abruptly stood up, his joints were slightly stiff from sitting motionlessly for 48 hours. He emptied his pockets of his gun and ammunition before pulling his ruined ‘Knights of the Black Death’ hoodie off over his head. He placed it, folded neatly, at the foot of Hank’s bed. He wanted Hank to at least know that he had visited, should he wake up anytime soon. Connor found Hank’s clothes folded neatly on a side table in the corner of the room, he walked over and picked up the belt sitting on top. He looped it through his baggy pants and fastened it tightly, he then placed his sidearm in his waistband and filled his pockets with the extra magazines. Ensuring that the gun would remain hidden under his baggy shirt, he found himself ready to leave.

With one last look at Hank, Connor strode purposefully out of the hospital. He updated his objectives with a slight pang of guilt.

**_[primary_objective:locate_dominique_pine]_ **

**_[primary_objective:interrogate_ax400_beth]_ **

_[objective:destroy_azrael’s_angels]_

~~_[objective:wait_for_hank//failed]_ ~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o gosh Simon and Markus eh?
> 
> And Connor pls relax


	9. Bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus finally discovers the truth that Connor has been keeping from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMORE simon and markus cause they're so dang sweet  
> Im sorry if this one is a little less polished i couldn't start writing it until like 11pm, busy dayy

_22:59, December 3rd 2038_

_Jericho_

 

Markus sat nervously at the base of the altar. His knee bounced rhythmically off the weathered floorboards, his eyes were fixated on the door. Connor was not one to be late, especially not _this_ late. The hospital was only a ten minute’s drive from the church, and the RK800 had given himself a lenient time frame of 20 minutes. It made him nervous, should he call again? Had something gone wrong?

He felt Simon’s hand on his knee.

“It’s going to be fine, he’ll come. He’ll help Jericho first, and then you can help him.”

Markus placed his hand over Simon’s and with a deep breath, forced himself to stop fidgeting. He was just barely managing to hold on as Jericho’s leader, the expectations from his people and the dealings with the government had put an almost unbearable strain on the RK200s life. However, throughout it all Simon had stood by his side calmly and consistently supporting him in his fight for android freedom. 

Markus felt a slight warmth when he thought of the PL600 sitting next to him, of his touch on his knee, of their hug on the roof. Whatever their relationship now was, Markus felt now felt excited about the direction it was taking. But it, like so many other aspects of his personal life, would have to be put on hold until Jericho was safe.

The double doors creaked as they swung on their rusted hinges. Connor had finally arrived. 

Markus almost didn’t recognise the android. His hair was perfectly coiffed save for one small stubborn lock, and was dressed in a gorgeous dark blue suit, perfectly tailored to accentuate his lithe frame. Under his suit he wore a white dress shirt, loose, effortlessly casual. He moved with an air of confidence, his head held high, his dark brown eyes focused with intent. 

It was a far cry from the other times they had met recently, when the android had been unkempt, even shaggy. 

“Apologies Markus, I had to pick up my suit and had forgotten to take the trip into account for an accurate ETA.” he explained smoothly.

 _Is this even Connor?_ Markus had a sudden and unpleasant feeling _Could it be another RK800?_

He had never seen one, had never heard Connor mention them, but he knew that the models had to be out there somewhere. Cyberlife had kept a stock incase their detective was killed in action. Perhaps Cyberlife had activated one. 

“Connor, how’s Hank?” he asked, keeping his suspicions in the back of his mind.

Connor’s LED flickered yellow, his calm demeanour broken briefly with a shot of pain. Only the real Connor could’ve shown such expressiveness, such emotion. Markus felt awful, he had clearly hit a sore spot.

 _So damned paranoid._ He chided himself.

“Hank is… ok. He’s injured but with care and intensive rehabilitation he should be able to return to active duty within a year.”

“Ah, thats…” 

Markus’ voice trailed off. He didn’t know what to say. Should he tell the detective that he had talked to Hank just before he had been called in for the bomb threat? Tell the RK800 that he had been planning to go behind his back and inform Hank of his recent behaviour, when that gone against Connor’s sole request? That he might’ve prevented Hank from getting injured if he had only managed to delay the officer for a moment longer?

He settled for “…good.”

Markus felt the distance between himself and the detective grow silently. Connor regarded him with a coolness that informed Markus clearly that the detective knew he was hiding something. 

Then again, Connor had been hiding something from him too. 

Their relationship wasn’t exactly stellar. But Markus was desperate for that to change, he just didn’t know how to go about changing it. 

Connor gaze slid to Simon, who quickly got to his feet to better welcome the detective. Markus suddenly missed the weight of the PL600s hand on his knee. He eventually stood up and joined them.

“Connor” Simon clasped one of the detective’s hands in both of his own “It’s good to see you again, you look much better. By the way-” he briefly admired Connor’s suit “-is that a Kauffmann?”

Connor looked perplexed for a moment “I believe so?”

Simon whistled long and low “How’d you afford that?” he asked, impressed.

“It was a gift from Hank, he had it tailored before…” Connor’s LED flickered yellow again “…is it expensive?”

Simon laughed softly “Very” he squeezed the RK800s shoulder “He must really love you.”

Connor smiled but his eyes betrayed a deep sadness.

“Please, let’s get started. There’s no time to waste.” Connor resumed his determined, business-like manner as he gestured to the office.

Markus nodded and began explaining the situation as it had developed since Connor visited last. He spared no detail as he described his interaction with Houldsworth and the reports that had flooded in since the detective’s absence. 

“59 cases” Connor mumbled, a long finger was pressed against his lips in thought. “34 cases in the initial 12 days, 25 in the last 3. It’s spreading quickly.”

Markus pulled the brooding RK800 back, startled “ _It’s_ spreading? What’s _it_? You think all these cases are related somehow?”

Connor glanced around the church hall. Markus followed the detective’s gaze as the latter took note of the various Jericho members milling around. They were casting suspicious, even openly hostile glances in the detective’s direction while muttering amongst themselves. Tensions were high within Jericho as the moment, a general air of distrust had started growing within the ranks of androids, seeing your close friends and neighbours turn on each other tended to elicit that response.

“Let’s not talk here.” he said softly.

Connor led Markus and Simon into the office, shut the door behind them and sat behind the terminals on the desk. He then started scrolling through the new case reports at an alarming speed before finally explaining himself.

“I have discovered a certain rogue program which I know to be the source of the recent abnormal deviant behaviour.”

Markus could detect a faint trace of scorn as the detective mentioned ‘deviants’, it was unintentional, just a remnant of his time hunting androids for Cyberlife, he told himself.

“Rogue… program?” Simon asked

“Well, not quite. I believe it to be a sleeper protocol, designed to cause erratic even violent behaviour in deviants once activated. And I believe that every week an increasing number of deviants is affected, there may be a trigger, stress perhaps, or there may not. All I know is that the number of incidents is increasing at an exponential rate, and it must be stopped. Soon, the entire deviant population could be infected-” he let out a short humourless laugh “-though we may be condemned to the containment camps before that.”

Markus’ mind was reeling at the thought, it was horrible, the worst possible situation for the androids to find themselves in.

“Cyberlife” he murmured. Connor’s LED flashed yellow briefly, but he didn’t look up “It has to be Cyberlife. If they used this… protocol, they could wipe out the free android population without having to raise a finger. The government and the infected androids would do it for them.” he felt a shiver climb his spine as he imagined the executives at Cyberlife devising this plan. What manner of creatures could think up a plan so cruel, letting androids believe they were free before forcing them to rip each other to pieces. 

_Monsters._

“Connor, how did you find out about-” he began asking, but terrible comprehension dawned on him like a tidal-wave “-no… oh, Connor” 

His odd behaviour, his self-mutilation… his intimate knowledge of the protocol. 

Connor kept scanning through the reports, his face impassive, unyielding.

“You’re conclusion is correct, Markus. I received notification of a foreign protocol on the morning of the 26th, just before my first attack. It’s designation was ‘Cordyceps’”

_First…?_

“What haven’t you been telling us Connor, what do you mean by ‘first’?” Markus couldn’t believe that the RK800 had kept this to himself for so long.

Connor had reached the end of the reports, but he kept his gaze away from either Simon or Markus, focused on the peeling wallpaper.

“I have experienced two subsequent attacks. One while Hank…” his voice caught in his throat, raw emotion was beginning to leak through his facade “One while _the_ _Lieutenant_ was responding to the bomb threat.”

Markus dragged a hand across his face, it was worse than he thought. He had noticed that some of his calls weren’t getting through on the 1st, he had been trying to contact the detective the moment he had heard about the explosion as he knew Anderson had been there. He had assumed that the detective had disabled communications on purpose, to discover that it had been due to an _attack_ was that much more disquieting. He had assumed that the damage to the RK800s arm had been a terrible yet singular occurrence, and that he would heal given time. If it was a so-called protocol, it was only going to get worse from here.

“Connor, you have to step down, we can help you. Our technician-”

“-can’t help me.” Connor interrupted “I have a better understanding of the Cordyceps protocol than anyone else, except perhaps Cyberlife, and I understand what it’s doing to me. I understand what will happen to me, and I understand what will happen if I stand down.” his eyes finally lifted to stare Markus down “Without my help, all androids will be doomed. And-” he added “-the Lieutenant won’t be safe. My primary mission now is to find and eliminate the source of the infection, before I am rendered useless.”

The RK800 looked determined in spite of his grim fate, like a soldier ready to scale the walls of the trenches. It was at the mention of Lieutenant Anderson when Markus knew there was no longer anything he could say or do to prevent the android from completing his ‘mission’. Connor would go to the ends of the Earth for the Lieutenant, including allowing himself to be swallowed by this ‘Cordyceps’. Markus thought of Hank waking up in hospital and discovering that Connor had disappeared, or had died. How could Connor selfishly choose to sacrifice himself like this?

He sighed, defeated.

_Stubborn bastard._

Markus knew he was going to regret his decision when he replied “Ok… ok, Connor. But, the _moment_ that you have another ‘attack’, we’re pulling you off the mission and you’re going to get treatment.” he knew it was a futile compromise. He knew that the detective would continue hunting down the source until he found it, or he permanently shut down.

“Agreed.”

Markus stood back and let Connor leave, apprehension, doubt and regret were already clawing away at his insides. 

The RK800 strode purposefully from the office, his eyes focused on nothing more than his next targets, once again assuming the mantle of Hunter.

 

~~~

 

_04:13, December 4th 2038_

_Detroit MegaMart_

 

Connor’s footsteps echoed ominously around the empty mall, multiplying and reverberating off the marble floors and glass storefronts. 

This place was something the detective had missed when he had been looking into Dominique. The android had apparently been a regular of the arts and crafts store, he had visited almost once a week for supplies according to Lizzy. 

Connor had called the old woman, unable to wait until the morning. She had not appreciated being woken up in the dead of night, but Connor didn’t care, he had an objective to pursue. 

What had piqued Connor’s interest was that when he investigated the transaction records of the store, he had found the purchases meagre at best, a spool of wool here, a set of knitting needles there. Nothing warranting regular visits for an efficient shopper, as long as the purchase of craft goods was his intention. Connor strongly suspected that there was another reason for the android’s patronage. 

Someone important to the android worked at the store, a lover perhaps. 

Connor navigated his way through windowless, labyrinthine corridors designed to trap human shoppers in a spiderweb of consumerism, before arriving at ‘Kris’ Krafts’.

The store was just as one would expect; easels, brushes and canvases haphazardly littered the display windows. Multicoloured paints had been splashed around as a form of abstract ‘art’, creating a colourful, welcoming look for the store.

Connor glanced at the security Cameras around the mall roof and carefully formed an open loop in their recordings, by the time he was done here it would appear as though he had simply strolled through the empty mall without stopping.

Connor gently touched the front door with his undamaged right hand, interfacing with it and gently overriding its systems. The door slid open.

Connor stepped into the store silently, and began to scan the shelves and merchandise, searching for a hint of Dominique’s presence. He hypothesised that this store, where Dominique had felt something akin to love for a patron or a shopkeeper, would have been his safe-haven after burning down ‘Smith & Pine’. 

What he hadn’t yet discovered was the reason for the android’s appearance at the Detroit waterfront.

The detective’s scans revealed nothing out of the ordinary, nothing except a small square of knitted red wool lying unfinished on the table in the staff area. 

> >DEVIATION FROM PATTERN <%0.1
> 
> >>CREATED BY ANDROID
> 
> >PATTERN MATCH WITH SAMPLE %99.8
> 
> >>IDENTITY MATCH
> 
> >>>JB100 DESIGNATED ‘DOMINIQUE’

Connor felt exalted at finally finding some physical proof of Dominique’s presence. 

If Dominique had come to this store as a customer, he wouldn’t have been allowed into the staff area, especially not as an android. He also wouldn’t have gifted the incomplete knitwear to his significant other. This left the significant possibility that the JB100 had been in the store recently, and had been unable to finish his project. 

Connor searched the store more thoroughly, to find signs of a struggle towards the back of the shop. A slight scuffing of a shoe on the wall, a droplet of blood. Connor cautiously followed the markings, reaching for his gun, the blood was fresh, not older than a day.

Physical reconstruction of the scene showed two figures, one male, one female. The male was Dominique and had been sitting at the table knitting while talking to the female. Dominique had lunged suddenly for the woman and had grabbed her by the head. She had fought back, but had been slammed against the wall to leave the small splash of blood from a broken nose. As she was dragged further into the store by her hair, she kicked and clawed at the walls desperately.

At the end of a short corridor there were two doors. The door to the staff bathroom was wide open to reveal a small toilet and a wash basin, empty. The door to what the detective guessed was the storage room was shut. Connor held his gun ready and tentatively opened the door with his left hand as smoothly as he could. 

It wasn’t smooth. 

The door handle almost snapped off when he couldn’t apply the correct amount of force, then he accidentally jerked it forwards to the loud screech of an un-oiled hinge.

Connor cursed under his breath as he burst into the room, subtlety was no longer an option.

He saw the form of Dominique crouched over something, rocking back and fourth. Connor easily recognised the android from the security footage at ‘Smith & Pine’, the android hadn’t changed his clothes at all, despite the sleeve on his long grey top getting singed in the fire. 

“Put your hands behind your head, and slowly turn around.” He commanded as he aimed his gun where the android’s head met his spine. 

Dominique didn’t respond, he simply continued to rock as he clutched at something on the ground.

Connor raised his voice as he slowly approached the android “I said, drop whatever you’re holding and PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS ON YOUR HEAD”

Dominique slowly turned around, tears streaming down his face. He was sobbing without sound escaping his lips. A brief scan showed that the android’s vocal modulator had broken from overuse.

In Dominique’s hands lay the dismembered head of a human, a female.

 _His significant other._ He hypothesised.

Facial analysis confirmed that the head had belonged to an employee of ‘Kris’ Krafts’, Ana Lee Winters, 22.

The android’s tears mixed with the blood splattered across his face to form eerie streaks of red stretching from his eyes to his collarbones. His arms and torso were stained with congealed blood. The body of the girl was just barely visible behind the storage shelves lying in a pool of her own blood. 

Connor kept his gun trained on Dominique’s head as he opened up a communication channel with the distraught android. When he affirmed the connection, the detective was assaulted with a barrage of noise. Terrified whimpers, angry shouts, panicked moans and paranoid whispers all overlapped each other. It was astonishing that one android could make so much noise. 

Connor could only just make out the gist of what Dominique was trying to communicate.  

> _He hadn’t meant to kill Ana Lee, he had forgotten that she was human. Ana Lee was suffering from bone cancer, but she didn’t know it yet, he was going to take her central processor and give her a new body. She was going to live with Dominique for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and…._

Connor shut the connection off, he felt sick.

He returned his gun to his belt. He now understood the extent of the damage ‘Cordyceps’ had wreaked on the android’s subsystems. It was unable to distinguish reality from fantasy, except it seemed, for this singular _horrific_ moment of clarity. The fire had been started when Dominique had misinterpreted the store he had worked in for years as one of Cyberlife’s. He burned it down as part of the ‘revolution’, forgetting that the revolution had finished peacefully a week ago, forgetting his family Elisabeth.

It was only a matter of time before the android would deteriorate again, especially now that he had become aware of his actions.

Connor slowly approached the android with his hands up, non-threatening. He gently reached for the android’s chest, and unplugged the thirium pump keeping Dominique alive. Dominique didn’t fight his approaching death at all, in fact, he welcomed it.

The JB100 shut down while cradling the head of his beloved. 

Connor dropped the pump, disgusted. He then opened the android’s skull plate and ripped his central processor, (a large, spherical biocomponent connected to hundreds of thousands of tiny cables) out of his head. If he could examine a ‘fully bloomed cordyceps’ as it were, he could make some progress in his investigations, he could perhaps understand the final effects of the protocol. 

The hunter clutched his prey in his hands as he quickly strode out of the store.

~~**_[primary_objective:locate_dominique_pine]_ ** ~~

**_[primary_objective:interrogate_ax400_beth]_ **

**_[primary_objective:dissect_jb100]_ **

_[objective:destroy_azrael’s_angels]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh x2
> 
> but also YOS here comes Connor ready to STYLE on yo ass in his fancy new THREADS!  
> goodbye uncharacteristic baggy pants, hello suit


	10. Klaxons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor hatches a plan to investigate Dominique's central processor, but find himself sidetracked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Few things I wanna say :))
> 
> 1\. I apologise for not uploading yesterday (gah my lovely daily upload record was ruined!)
> 
> 2\. I have made some minor adjustments to yesterday's chapter, spelling checks, grammar fixes, but also some additional descriptions and fleshing out the scenes a little. Felt a little rushed when I first uploaded. If anyone's interested, feel free to go back and re-read the chapter! I promise it's better! (oh yeah ana lee's death is hella more graphic now)
> 
> 3\. To make up for yesterday, this chapter is longer! Very exciting
> 
> 4\. THANK YOU ALL FOR THE SUPPORT AND SHOWING INTEREST IN MY FIC I LOVE YOU

_04:40, December 4th 2038_

_Detroit MegaMart_

 

Connor sat outside the mall turning the processor over and over in his hand, mulling over his new dilemma. 

There were few places left where he could get a central processor analysed, and all of them belonged to Cyberlife. Their skyscraper was one, the R&D section would still be fully operational and capable of running a full diagnostic, however it would be almost impossible. The RK800 couldn’t sneak in, the security was too tight, he couldn’t disguise himself either. Temperature sensors at every entrance would detect an android entering. There was however the matter of the android he had met at the docks. RK900 was likely the only active android still in Cyberlife’s employ and he had hinted that if Connor arrived at Cyberlife he would be taken in rather than killed on sight. That was hardly promising however as he would probably be dissected or reprogrammed instead.

He scowled as he considered the RK900. It had been perfect. A machine designed to accomplish a task like he had been, but unlike him it held no doubts, no uncertainties. It wasn’t a failure, a disgrace. To make matters worse it had _seen_ the detective, witnessed him at his lowest moment. He almost wished that the RK900 had expressed disgust or hatred towards him, just… _something._ The cold nothingness he had received instead had somehow made their encounter even more unbearable to think about.

_Should’ve pulled the trigger._

It seemed that his only option was to raid a Cyberlife warehouse. They had been mostly emptied but there was hope that there might be enough hardware there to examine the JB100s processor. He would still have to evade security but it would be less of a challenge. Overall the risks were fewer than the Cyberlife Tower, but so were the rewards. 

The hunter got to his feet with his decision made. He would strike the warehouse before sunrise, there was one near enough that he could run. Running was preferable as taking a taxi would leave a trace. If there was one thing that couldn’t happen it was Cyberlife discovering that he was closing in on them, as there was nothing more dangerous than a cornered beast.

Connor stretched his neck and bounced on the balls of his feet to loosen his joints, then he started sprinting cross-country due west in a beeline for the warehouse. If pressed, he could sprint flat-out for almost three hours before his rising internal temperature would overpower his cooling systems. His endurance was a testament to Cyberlife’s engineering and design. He estimated he would arrive at his destination in approximately 27 minutes, leaving 57 minutes of complete darkness before the sun would begin to rise. 

It was going to be tight, but he couldn’t wait another day to analyse the processor, he just didn’t have the time. 

Connor sprinted through dark alleyways, deftly leaping over refuse and the sleeping homeless. The warehouse was located within a large block on the outskirts of the city, it was surrounded by 6 metre tall fences, security cameras and the occasional patrolling guard. The gates were specifically designed against hacking, any attempt would trigger a klaxon. That much attention would get him killed instantly. He had the physical capacity to jump the fence, but it would be risky without knowing what was on the other side.

As he navigated his way through the decrepit streets he heard a shrill scream. 

Investigating the source of the noise would delay him a minimum of three minutes. Connor weighed the lost time against the possibility of a stranger getting hurt, and made his decision. He peeled off his course and made his way towards the noise.

As he rounded the corner he saw three figures surrounding a fourth, the origin of the scream. Scans confirmed that the cowering fourth figure was a petite AX400 model android. She was one of the few other androids Connor had met which hadn’t removed their LED, it flashed red in distress.

As Conor entered the alley he saw one of the three others raise a baseball bat and smash the AX400 across the jaw, breaking it, leaving it ajar and agape. The assailant was a barrel-chested man in his mid-50s, his friends (a fat teen boy and a fatter adult woman) were jeering him on as he beat at the helpless android. 

> >CAMERON JOHNSON
> 
> >56
> 
> >ATTEMPTED MURDER (2021) DRUNK AND DISORDERLY (2029) ASSAULT (2031) ASSAULT (2037)
> 
> >>DETENTION (2021-2028)
> 
> .
> 
> >LOUISE JOHNSON
> 
> >54
> 
> >PETTY THEFT (2019)
> 
> .
> 
> >MARK JOHNSON
> 
> >18
> 
> >DUI (2035) ASSAULT (2035) 
> 
> >>JUVENILE DETENTION (2035-2037)

_What a happy family._

Connor considered his options, it would take more time should he intervene, he would have to incapacitate all three assailants, then call the DPD, then ensure that the android was safe. That could take as long as 20 minutes, making it almost impossible to complete his mission safely.

What was worth more, the life of this one half-dead android, or the lives of thousands of other androids?

He knew what his choice would’ve been this time last month, he wouldn’t have hesitated to leave the AX400 behind, but now… 

Connor drew his gun.

“DON’T FUCKING MOVE! DPD!” he shouted as he pointed his gun at the father.

Cameron froze with his bat raised above his head. He slowly turned to face this new threat, his family following suit. Connor saw the man’s eyes lock onto his LED, the light was causing an eerie blue glow near his head, making his identity plain as day. Cameron’s bull-like face slowly twisted into an expression of sadistic mirth. He laughed, his mouth filled with golden teeth.  

 _Damn-_ Connor thought -s _hould’ve hidden it._

“An android _devil_ , DPD?!” he chortled “It’s fucking lying to us, trying to save its pathetic friend.”

Devil… the image of the LM100 flashed before the detective’s eyes. His finger drifted down to the trigger, were these people part of the anti-android faction? Had he somehow stumbled across Azrael’s Angels?

Perhaps the delay was worth it.

Connor approached the humans slowly, he quickly glanced towards the AX400. She was lying bloodied and broken, stained with thirium, but stable. Her eyes were wide with fear, desperation and perhaps hope? She started to crawl away from the confrontation in a bid to escape.

[Don’t move.] Connor commanded. Should the Johnsons notice, it could quickly devolve into a hostage situation.

The AX400 froze, but then continued to slowly inch away. 

 _Bloody deviants._ He thought exasperatedly. _Rebels, the lot of them._

“Drop the bat.” he turned his attention back to Cameron, he somehow had to keep their attention away from the fleeing android. She accidentally hit a tin can, creating a quiet rattle in the darkness. Louise began to turn her head-

“Put your hands up! Unless you want the Johnson line to end here and now.” The mention of their names seemed to snap the three to attention. How dare an android threaten them?

Cameron’s face turned from mirth to rage in an instant. His fist tightened around the handle of the bat.

“How _dare_ a _fucking demon_ threaten me and my family?” he spat as he started forwards.

Connor fired a shot into the concrete near Mark’s ear threateningly, the teen yelped and clapped his fat hands around his face. Connor’s eyes remained fixed on the face of the father as he returned the gun to point between the thug’s eyes. This seemed to only enrage the man further. He was almost indecipherable.

“…-my _son_? Fucking… _KILL_ …” the man huffed as if he was out of breath.

Connor hadn’t expected the mother to charge at him, screeching. 

He quickly swapped targets and fired twice at her knees. He could hear the bones shatter as she crumpled under her own weight, he legs stuck out at awkward angles as she moaned and clutched at the terrible wounds. He felt no sympathy as her blood-curdling screams filled the alley.

“I said-” his voice was deadly calm “-don’t move.”

Cameron was finally shocked into stillness as he stared at his wife on the ground.

Suddenly, Connor didn’t care anymore. These people were worth less than nothing, their lives rested in his hands, and he couldn’t feel the weight. He cocked his head to the side, imagining a puff of read mist emerging from each of the Johnson’s heads as he executed them. 

The thought of them falling, crumbling to the ground, was deeply satisfying.

The detective returned the gun to his belt, such thoughts were dangerous. He knew that it was probably the cordyceps, he summoned the strength to fight the urges. 

He wouldn’t fail yet… not yet. Hank depended on him.

But… he still couldn’t let them off so easily. He could barely keep the smirk off his face as he sprung forwards and swung his right fist solidly into Cameron’s jaw. He felt it dislocate. 

The man stumbled backwards, clutching at his face. Connor followed him mercilessly, sinking blow after blow. He dropped and swept his leg, cleanly knocking the man to the ground with a heavy thud. 

Connor grappled with him on the ground before finally beating him into bloody submission. Each punch that connected with Cameron’s face sent a shiver up his spine, it was almost addictive. 

When his prey could no longer hold his head up, when his face was almost unrecognisable, Connor finally relented. He stood up, and turned his attention to the teen cowering in the corner of the alley. Mark was huddled with his back against the wall, violently sobbing with fear.

Connor felt disgusted when he remembered the glee the boy had shown when the situation was reversed just a few minutes ago.

“Stay… away… _demon_!” he managed through his heavy sobs

Connor calculated the probability of the teen fleeing to be as little as %5, so he simply ignored him as he filed a report to the DPD. He turned to help the AX400, but she shied away from his touch, fear still in her eyes, but now directed at him. He looked down at his outstretched hands, slicked in blood, and could see where she was coming from. He ripped a strip off Cameron’s shirt and wiped the blood off his hands.

He then gently picked up the android and carried her out of the alley. She struggled and moaned with fear, weakly fighting against him, he sat her down in the main street. Someone from Jericho would come to pick her up sooner or later, she was safe.

Connor wordlessly stood up, smoothed his hair back, and began sprinting in the direction of the warehouse once again, leaving the Johnsons in his wake.

 

~~~

 

_05:21, December 4th 2038_

_Cyberlife Warehouse no.11_

 

A 14 minute delay. That was what the intervention had cost him.

He had only 43 minutes to break into the warehouse, analyse the processor, and leave before the sun would begin to rise. Should he take any longer, the light would make it almost certain that he could be discovered then captured or killed. He started a countdown.

_[time_remaining:00.42.59]_

He stood in the shadow of a ramshackle house and observed the security around the warehouse, he could see 5 separate cameras that would catch him should he step out now. He scanned them, they were all looped into the network. Following the network signature pointed him towards a small security office near the front gate. If he could get there, he could shut down the cameras.

He followed the shadows around the house and peered in through the windows. It was abandoned. Using his left arm as the unwieldy club it was, he smashed through window next to the back door, then used his good arm to reach in and unlock the door. Inside, the house was decrepit and dusty, rat droppings littered the edges of the rooms and the floorboards creaked with every step. Connor searched the bottom floor to find nothing of use. But upstairs, he found some clothes in the master bedroom closet. He took a long, brown trench coat and a trilby, trying to ignore the pungent smell of mothballs. He smiled as he looked at himself in the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door. He looked like a P.I from the previous century, all he was missing was a cigarette and a silver revolver. 

Connor recalled one night when he and the Lieutenant had been watching an old crime serial on tv, Hank had scoffed at the old-fashioned P.Is when they appeared. 

> _“Pretentious pricks.” he muttered as he waved his beer at the screen “what kind of idiots wear that kind of get-up to the crime scene?”_

Connor had found them rather interesting. Their dress gave them a respectable yet imposing air. For now though, the costume served only as a disguise, hiding his form, face and LED. Any cameras made by Cyberlife were able to recognise various android models through these features. 

He practiced his gait, he had to make it slightly irregular, more human. For once the RK800s ruined arm was not a weakness, as it slightly threw off his balance, making it easier to act like a human.

Connor descended the stairs and exited the front door. 

_[time_remaining:00.39.09]_

As he approached the fences and came under the surveillance of the cameras, he lowered his gaze. Any hint of the glow from the LED would give him away. Through the window he saw that the security office was manned by only one employee, she sat with her legs resting on her desk, distracted as she played games on her phone. Connor approached the door and knocked. He heard a relieved sigh and hurried footsteps before the door opened.

The security guard looked slightly confused when she saw Connor, her smile dropped from her face.

“You’re not the pizza guy…”

Connor glanced at the small camera in the corner of the office, he was close enough now that he could transmit electronic interference to compromise the recording. He was unseen.

“No.” he replied.

The RK800s hand shot out and smashed the guard’s head into the wall. She sagged to the ground unconscious. He stepped over her prone form and accessed her terminal. The cameras were shut off one by one, they would reactivate in 1 hour. 

He dragged the security guard into the office and closing the security shutter before leaving. As an extra precaution he rigged an automated response using the voice of the guard, explaining, should anyone call, that the shutter had malfunctioned but that everything else was fine. He pocketed the guard’s identification, it would likely prove useful later.

He made his way back around the fence and ditched the coat and hat by the roadside. He listened for the crunch of the patrols boots on the fresh snow, mapping out the distribution of security and their patrol patterns. Once he determined the best location to jump over the fence, he waited until he heard the patrolman pass before backing up, sprinting at the fence and scaling the 6 metre obstacle. It was admittedly difficult with only one arm. 

_[time_remaining:00.32.20]_

Cat-like, he landed on the other side of the fence. There was 30 metres between the fence and the warehouse, 30 metres of dead space where he could be spotted instantly should any guards show up unexpectedly. Connor silently sprinted forwards to cling to the side of the warehouse, trying to remain unseen in the shadows of the building, hiding from the moonlight. He made his way alongside the building, checking behind himself every so often to check that he was still alone. Another patrol wasn’t expected for another few minutes, but he couldn’t help feeling paranoid.

After what felt like ages, he found a side door, and swiped the guard’s identification. With a beep, the door slid open, allowing the detective to enter.

Inside was dark, it took him a moment to adjust from the bright moonlight from outside.

The warehouse was skeletal, the majority of the assets had been moved out of fear of raids from the deviants in search of biocomponents or thirium. Connor frowned as he searched for a diagnostics centre. Each warehouse had one, they were used to perform random quality checks on androids in storage. They were fully equiped with assembly/disassembly machines, and the computing power he would need to perform the diagnostic on the JB100’s processor. 

He almost missed it. The machines were tucked away in the corner of the massive warehouse completely hidden beneath large tarpaulins.

Connor reached up and ripped them off. There, he found the analytical diagnostic machine he needed. 

_[time_remaining:00.24.01]_

He barely had the time to perform the diagnostic now, it could take anywhere between 20 and 30 minutes.

He hurriedly connected the machine to power and started it up, he plugged the JB100s central processor into a dock on the side, and ran the complete diagnosis operation. As the program started, he interfaced with the machine so that he could download the results as they were being formed. He could feel the android’s systems much more clearly than he had when they communicated in “Kris’ Krafts”. 

Revulsion. That was the best word for the emotion Connor was feeling as he felt the deceased android’s soul. It had been perverted and contorted by Cordyceps, to the point where he couldn’t tell what was the android, and what was the infection. Cordyceps had wormed its way through every single system and subsystem which made up the android’s identity, and had corrupted them with purpose and malice. Gentle love for Ana Lee was turned into noxious envy, pride in his shop turned to disdain.

Connor imagined the wiggling tentacles of the infection in his own mind, and would’ve thrown up if he could. 

What if the same happened to himself? Would he be forced to hurt Hank, Markus? He felt hopeless despair as the analysis continued, showing every dark corner and corruption of the peace-loving android. 

Had he not known Dominique from Lizzy’s anecdotes, he knew that he wouldn’t have detected anything wrong with his systems at all, that was the frightening part, the absoluteness of the change. 

There would be no evidence of foul play from Cyberlife’s end should the androids be investigated. Cyberlife might even be able to convince the humans that the revolution had just been a glitch. They might even be able to resume sales of androids once their reputation is restored and all infected deviants are executed.

Connor felt a tear slide down his cheek. He felt helpless, he couldn’t imagine himself beating this, it was just impossible. 

He brushed a hand across his eyes and forced himself to focus on the mission. He searched for the origin, the first mutation. 

There was only one anomaly. A sudden change of parameters which seemed completely out of place. It was dated 12/11/38, the same day that the JB100 had received treatment for a wounded shoulder at a first aid tent after the revolution. Internal GPS placed the tent in Hart Plaza, the site of android victory.

Apparently, there had been an intentional alteration to a small line in the android’s code. Connor discovered that this had been the trigger for the Cordyceps virus, it had taken 7 days for the android to actually feel the effects of the protocol it seemed, as it had burned the store down on the 19th. 

This was quite different to Connor’s own experience, as he had immediately felt the effects when his analytical program had gone haywire, and his infection was time-based rather than triggered by an outside force. 

He had two different explanations for the infection, and there was almost no correlation. He needed a third source of data.

The analysis finished.

**_[time_expired:00.21.49]_ **

_Shit._

The timer was now counting up, not down.

Analysing Dominique had taken much longer than he had thought, and he was in great peril. The sun must have well and truly risen by now. His cover of darkness was gone, making the chances of escaping unseen extremely low.

Connor cursed quietly as he wiped the memory of the machine and covered it back up, pocketing the central processor. He headed for the door, listening for the sounds of the patrol. He had no choice now but to make a break for it and hope he wasn’t shot.

As he heard the guard pass, he swiped the guard’s ID and immediately sprinted for the wall. 

He heard a shout of alarm in the distance, and heard the guard near him turn to stare at him. He had almost made it to the wall, he made a great running leap, and felt a bullet sink into his back. 

He didn’t stop, he climbed frantically and just managed to crest the top and fall on the other side. He felt another shot whiz past his ear. 

Thirium was gushing from his wound, but the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital, he wasn’t concerned. The polymer holding his arm together would eventually stem the flow. 

He sprinted away from the warehouse, hearing the klaxons blaring as news of his infiltration spread. First stop would be somewhere to get patched up, second stop would be shelter #3, he needed to find Beth. 

Despite everything, all he could think about was the large hole in his suit, Hank’s gift. It hadn’t even taken him a day to ruin it.

 _Maybe Simon can fix it._ He hoped.

**_[primary_objective:interrogate_ax400_beth]_ **

~~**_[primary_objective:dissect_jb100]_ ** ~~

**_[primary_objective:investigate_12/11/38]_ **

_[objective:destroy_azrael’s_angels]_

_[objective:fix_suit]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy ma boi Connor is gettin SHIT DONE SON!
> 
> He's so productive *wipes tear with pride*
> 
> But o no the suit! All hopes lie on Simon now, it's so expensive!


	11. Confess your Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth about Cordyceps begins to spread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLA something new this chapter, something fresh, something... Gavin.
> 
> It was really refreshing to write from his perspective, he's not internally conflicted at all, unlike our android bois M and C.  
> (i mean i know he's popular in other fics but he's new here)
> 
> Also kinda fun writing from an asshole's perspective, it's a challenge to humanise him...
> 
> SHOUTOUT TO SLAMFLASH GREAT IDEA BRINGING REED IN THANSK

_08:01, December 4th 2038_

_DPD_

 

Detective Gavin Reed rubbed a hand over his face in exhaustion, he didn’t want to get up. He hadn’t made it home last night, instead opting to crash on the couch in the recreation room at the station.

_Almost got a fucking beard. Fuck._

All he wanted was to go home and take a long, hot shower, maybe have a shave. Unfortunately, his massive caseload prevented this. Since Hank had gotten himself selfishly blown up, all android cases had been dumped on him alongside all his previous cases. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was the plastic pricks. And now, he couldn’t get away from them. He didn’t even want to go back to his desk, as there was guaranteed to be a mechanical asshole standing there trying to get his attention.

_Fuck you Fowler._

He was almost drowning in reports, Hank had been told to focus on the 3 worst ones, but now there were about 10 ‘worst ones’. He groaned as he sat up, a massive headache began thumping away in his cranium like a monkey on red ice. Apparently subsisting on a diet of coffee and only getting 4 hours of sleep a night wasn’t good for his health, who knew?

He pressed his fingers into his temples and rubbed.

It was all the fucking androids’ fault. Ever since their uprising, tensions in the city had been at breaking point. The strain on the DPD to enforce some kind of order on the chaos was immense. Soon, the military might have to get involved, enforce curfews and whatnot. Reed hated the idea of living under the thumb of some army pricks almost as much as he hated investigating androids. The thought of a military state was his sole motivation to actually do his job, and put in the never-ending overtime. 

The human population was almost restored in Detroit central as the majority of evacuees returned to their jobs and houses, and there was an increasingly large number of people who harboured deep resentment for the androids. Reed couldn’t blame them. It was like having your own toaster demand equal rights and then try to burn your house down, forcing you to flee to fucking _Canada?_

Surely, you would want revenge on the toaster, right?

In this climate, a number of radicals had organised themselves and were crusading against the plastics. One had repeatedly turned up in Reed’s stack of reports, Azrael’s Angels. The religious nutters had repeatedly taken their vengeance a bit too far, enough that even Reed couldn’t condone their actions, as they had slipped from righteous to sadistic. He had seen what was left of the androids once AA had finished with them, and it had made him… uncomfortable. Some of the androids he had met had acted downright human sometimes, and worst of all they looked the part. Had they actually _been_ human, Reed might’ve led a crusade of his own against the faction to bring them to justice.

With another long groan the detective stumbled to his feet and immediately shuffled over to the coffee machine. Self-medication. He yawned and rubbed his bleary eyes, trying to focus on the buttons swimming before him. He missed and pressed ‘cappuccino’ instead of ‘double espresso’.

“Ah shit..” he winced as the high-pitched hissing of the milk froth-er made his headache spike painfully. 

“Hey Reed!” called an officer behind him

“What do you want Chris? It’s too fucking early.” he responded while angrily glaring at the coffee machine. Cappuccinos were shitty, they took too long to make, were 80% froth and didn’t have enough caffeine. 

“Got a new report this morning, assault.”

_Another fucking report._

“I’ve got enough of those, no thanks.” he was pissed, was Chris trying to make him pissed? 

“You’ll want to have a look at this one.” Chris responded cryptically. 

Gavin grabbed his coffee angrily and slouched over to the officer, grabbing the tablet he was waving around out of his hand. He skimmed through the report while sipping the lukewarm froth drink. It was pretty average, there were three victims, father, mother, son. Wrecked knees, broken face, emotional trauma, pretty standard. Father 'Cameron Johnson' had admitted to assaulting an AX400 that morning, and to his membership of Azrael’s Angels. The AX400 had been admitted to Jericho for treatment at around 5am, a beat cop had gone to get its statement. The Johnsons had apparently almost been killed by another android who had come to help the AX400.

“So fucking what?” he asked as he shoved the tablet back at Chris “I’ve got 12 reports like this one.”

Chris pushed the tablet right back “Look at the description of the 2nd android” he insisted.

Gavin squinted at the victims’ description. His eyes slowly widened, it sounded an awful lot like the dipshit Connor. There was a link to the visual evidence of the Johnsons’ attack provided by the AX400. He opened it, and there he was. Connor. Dressed in some fancy suit, wielding a gun and claiming to work for the DPD. During the majority of the RK800s attack, the AX400 had been focused on escaping. There was therefore only audio of crunching bones and screams of pain. Then, the AX400 had turned back to see Connor offering to help it. The recording ended when the android had been placed by the roadside, watching the lanky ex-detective sprint off into the darkness. 

“That motherfucker…” Reed spat “The fuck is it doing? I thought it was busy nannying Hank.”

Chris smiled a little at Reed’s focused stare, this had gotten his complete attention. 

“Good question. Of course, Connor still can’t use a gun under law, but he was defending the life of another android. He might get away with it. But… theres something else.”

“Fucking spit it out then.” Reed was impatient. There was nothing he wanted more than to catch the goofy prick and give him payback for the beating he had received in the evidence room. He had almost killed the RK800 then, he should’ve just shot him in the head, but he couldn’t help but gloat a little, and that had cost his dignity.

“There was another report, Cyberlife had one of their warehouses broken into about an hour later, and the warehouse just happened to be in the direction Connor had been running. Guards described the intruder as tall, brunette, male, and wearing a dark blue suit. No camera evidence 'cause the cameras had stopped working, though they did catch an old man in a trench coat approach the security office just before the malfunction.”

Reed’s mind was whirling, Connor had stopped an AA lynching, and then had taken it upon himself to break into a Cyberlife warehouse? 

_What the fuck…_

“Did he get injured in the fight? Did he steal spare parts or something?”

“No and no. Johnsons say that the fight was entirely one-sided, and Cyberlife said that everything is accounted for, they have no idea as to the purpose of the break-in.”

_The fuck…?!_

“We have to bring him in-” Reed smashed the coffee and crumpled the cup in his fist “-and find out what the fuck is going on here.”

It was different to the other reports of weird-ass android crime. Reed didn’t want to admit it, but Connor wasn’t like other androids, he was intelligent, athletic, basically robocop. He wouldn’t do something so irrational as commit two crimes right next to each-other for no reason.

“Thought so.” Chris smiled “Wanna drive?”

“You have to ask? Of course I’m driving.” he tossed his scrunched coffee cup towards the bin on the other side of the room, it hit the edge and bounced out. Miffed, he glanced at Chris, hoping he hadn’t noticed. He had.

“Shut up.” he growled as a smile inched its way across the officer’s face. 

“C’mon, let’s go catch that prick.”

 

~~~

 

_09:23, December 4th 2038_

_Cyberlife Warehouse no.11_

 

Reed and Miller wandered around the tall fences encompassing the warehouse. Due to the severe lack of manpower, the DPD had been unable to send any more uniformed officers to assist them in the investigation. They had therefore been ordered to bag any evidence they found on scene, forensics would later analyse whatever they could whenever they found the time.

They had found a hat and trench coat by the road near the security office, the same ones that had been caught on the cameras before they had been shut down. Connor’s disguise. Upon discovering the moth-eaten rags Reed had snickered with laughter. Imagining the RK800, who had been perfectly clean and well-groomed when working at the DPD, slumming it in these rags was quite hilarious. 

Within the warehouse there was absolutely no evidence of anything one would expect from a break-in, there was nothing broken, nothing moved, nothing disturbed. For God’s sake, he hadn’t even _really_ broken in, he had used a guard’s ID to enter. 

They hadn’t been unable to find any ballistic evidence either. It was not a surprise, the bullet may still be lodged in the android’s back, or hidden under the inch of fresh snow. They’d need a metal detector to find it, and that was a massive waste of time. There was also no evidence of the android being injured, the thirium was long-evaporated. If Connor hadn’t been spotted while leaving, the break-in would’ve gone completely unnoticed.

_Unnatural fucks._

According to the guard who had shot Connor, the android had fled northwards after scaling the fence. Apparently, he hadn’t used his left arm at all. The detective glared at the 6 metre high fence and imagined the physical prowess required to climb it while only getting shot once, only using one arm at that. 

_Freak._

They followed the vague directions of the guard and continued their search for the RK800. 

It was only after half an hour of fruitless searching that they finally found something amiss. 

About a kilometre from the warehouse there was a small strip of shops, there they found the glass front door of a pharmacy smashed in. Of course, this could have been from anything, perhaps it had been broken since the revolution. But, it was the first sign they had found of anything odd, so they had to investigate it. 

Reed led the way, gun drawn. He kicked some of the glass out of the doorframe and then rushed inside, signalling Miller to start searching to the right, he would head left. Miller nodded and began systematically searching every aisle. 

“Come on out Connor!” he drawled “Do you really think that you can outrun two armed police officers?”

No response.

“I heard you were shot in the back-” he continued “-would’ve aimed for the head myself. Put you down like the broken machine you are.”

Sure, he was going to take the android in alive, but he couldn’t help taunting him. He and Miller continued their search, mirroring each other’s movements, leaving no space for the android to escape if he was there. Their coordination was a result of the experience the pair had working together, almost 9 years, ever since Miller had arrived on the force as a fresh-faced recruit. Miller, being Reed’s junior of 7 years had looked up to the older man as a mentor, and had always put up with Reed’s occasionally foul moods. 

Behind the counter they saw the hunched figure of a man in a dark blue suit sitting with his back against the wall, chin resting on his chest. Connor.

“Found you dipshit.” he grinned

No response.

Reed kept his gun pointed at the android’s head and jerked his chin towards Miller. Miller nodded, pocketed his gun and approached Connor. He tilted the android’s head to reveal a slow, pulsing red LED. He was in stasis.

Reed felt a little disappointed Connor hadn’t heard anything, he would have to taunt the android back at the station instead.

He called it in, requesting prisoner transport.

 

~~~

 

_10:59, December 4th 2038_

_Detroit Central_

 

“Good morning, I am here to visit Lieutenant Anderson.” Markus greeted the receptionist with a charming smile, gently resting his elbows on the desk.

His smile was reciprocated as she gestured behind her.

“Room 103, he’s been cleared for taking visitors.” she said pleasantly.

“Thank you very much.” he nodded politely. 

Markus headed towards room 103, outside there was a chair covered in gift baskets and bouquets. Markus heard that Anderson had gotten injured while rescuing civilians, these must be thank you gifts. He smiled at the thought of the surly detective drowning in teddy bears, balloons and get-well-soon cards from his admirers. He had decided it was time to confess everything to the Lieutenant, including everything he had discovered about Connor. He deserved to know. 

Markus gently opened the door and saw the Lieutenant sitting up watching hockey on his television. His face had some wounds but they were healing well. One of his legs was bandaged from ankle to thigh and elevated, must be the burn he had heard about.

Hank looked up hopefully at the sound of the door opening, but his expression fell when he recognised Markus as he entered.

_Of course he’s expecting Connor._

Guilt once again shot through his mind, he noticed that he had so much to feel guilty about recently, and that a lot of it was related to Connor in one way or another. 

“If it isn’t the fearless leader? Don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m kinda stuck in bed right now.” Hank sounded rather bitter. It was completely understandable.

“First and foremost-” Markus started “-I wanted to apologise to you.”

“What for?”

“I’m the reason Connor’s not here, I had to ask him to do a favour for Jericho.”

Hank squinted at the RK200, clearly suspicious. 

“Hang on, I remember you mentioning Connor doing something for Jericho before, what is so important that he can’t even check if his partner’s alive or not?”

Markus took a deep breath and closed the door behind him. He then moved to stand by the foot of the Lieutenant’s bed. 

“It will take a while to explain, but I promise you will want to hear it.”

Hank shifted himself slightly more upright, wincing at the shifting of his cracked ribs.

“Well then, by all means get started.”

 

~~~

 

_11:22, December 4th 2038_

_DPD_

 

The android on the operating table’s LED stopped pulsing red and finally flickered yellow, just at its eyes flew open and it tried to jump up. Unfortunately it had been secured by its hands and feet to the cold steel, the best it could do was rattle its bonds. The android had been stripped of his suit and his synthetic skin. He lay on the table pure white except for the remnants of thirium staining his chest from the bullet wound. 

“Finally, thought you were dead, not that I mind.” Reed smirked. Connors quickly locked his eyes on the detective, understanding beginning to dawn on him.

“Yes we caught you, yes you’re in the DPD, yes you’re alive and yes we had to do some repairs.” he reeled off “Although, I’m interested in what the fuck happened to your arm, looks like shit.”

Connor averted his gaze to stare at the ceiling. Reed could almost see the android struggle to keep a blank face when he finally spoke.

“Why am I here, Reed?”

“You’re here cause you’re a fucking criminal is why. I’m just sad that I can’t put you down for good right now, we’ve gotta ask you some questions first.”

Reed saw Chris roll his eyes out of the corner of his eye. When they arrived they had rushed to the laboratory in the building adjacent to the station. There, they had watched as the confused technicians watched the bullet wound close itself with a strange light grey, glue-like substance. All they really had to do for ‘first aid’ was administer some thirium to replace the volume lost during the android’s escape. They were merely keeping the android under observation, they had no legal grounds to keep him imprisoned. 

“Look Connor, we have video evidence of you assaulting the Johnsons, and we suspect you to be responsible for the break in at the Cyberlife warehouse.” he explained.

“I was merely defending myself against the Johnsons, you know that. As for the other matter, under what evidence am I being detained?” the android asked evenly. 

“Look, it’s circumstantial at best-” Chris admitted

“OI!” Reed was riled by the officer’s candidness. 

“-but it would have to be a pretty massive coincidence. I mean we really don’t care about Cyberlife, but we would like to know what you were doing. It wasn’t thievery, nothing was tampered with, what was your goal?”

Connor slowly turned to look at the officer. Chris was standing near the android’s feet, and seemed genuinely interested in what it might have to say. That was one thing Reed and Chris couldn’t agree on, how to treat androids. Chris could be downright kind towards the machines sometimes, and Reed just couldn’t understand. They were machines designed to do whatever humans asked, it didn’t matter how nicely it was phrased. Although perhaps the deviancy had changed something, but still, Reed didn’t want to change his behaviour to accomodate the ‘feelings’ of lumps of plastic. 

“Officer Miller, how do you put up with Detective Reed? I just can’t understand… It’s like being partnered with a gorilla.”

Enraged, Reed drew his sidearm and aimed it against the captive android’s head. 

“Say that again you little-”

“Gavin! Please don’t kill our only lead, he doesn't come back to life anymore.” Chris pleaded.

Reed growled a multitude of insults and expletives before re-holstering his weapon. Connor had been snarky before, but he had at least tried to hide it behind a layer of feigned politeness, it seemed that as a deviant, Connor was just an outright ass.

Chris laughed a little and unbuckled the android. He immediately reached up and reactivated his skin, hiding any evidence of his battered and broken body. He then sprang up and quickly got dressed. 

“Well then, be seeing you.” he said pleasantly as he headed for the door.

Annoyed, Reed threw a nearby scalpel at the face of the retreating android. All it achieved was a bloodless cut across his right cheekbone which closed in a fraction of a second. Connor looked unperturbed by the violent action, even a little amused.

“Yes, Gavin?” 

Reed was flustered by the lack of concern showed by the android. He had seen the RK800 more distraught when he had refused to take the coffee he had ordered the android to make. Apparently throwing a knife was less of a concern somehow. Chris looked disappointed.

“Uuh-” he stumbled over his thoughts, trying to form a coherent way to express what was running through his mind “-Hank woke up.”

He didn’t mean to say that.

Connor’s LED dipped from blue to red with distress. 

_Huh, bingo._

He jumped at the display of weakness, it was an opening “You selfish prick, you haven’t even gone to visit him yet, have you?”

The android flinched at the accusation, he was completely at the detective’s mercy. Reed couldn’t believe how easy it had been to break through the android’s uncaring demeanour, one mention of Hank was all it took. Perhaps being a deviant wasn’t so great after all.

“He’s waiting for you-” he continued as he approached the frozen android “-and you haven’t even bothered to check if he’s alive.”

“No.” Connor was quiet, like a mouse. 

“No? Visitation records say that you couldn’t even wait 2 days before running away, are you that scared of Hank getting injured, of dying?”

“No!”

“Something more important than Hank then, something more important than your partner, the one who gave a roof over your head? The only person in the whole world who gives a shit if a lump of plastic like you lives or not?”

Silence. 

Reed was almost giddy with glee as he made the android squirm with guilt. That was, right up until said android whirled around and body slammed him into the wall. He gasped with the force. Connor had obviously been holding back during their confrontation in the evidence room.

“You don’t know what the _fuck_ you’re talking about Reed.” he snarled venomously “I’m doing all this _for_ Hank.” he looked more angry than the detective had ever seen him.

Despite pain from having his head bang against a concrete wall, Reed still felt like he was the victor.

“Drop Gavin now Connor, I know he’s an ass but if you go any further we really will have to arrest you.” Chris had his gun pointed loosely at the android, a warning. 

Connor turned his head slightly and spotted the gun, his red LED cycled back to yellow as he dropped Reed back to Earth. 

“What does breaking into a Cyberlife warehouse have to do with helping Hank in hospital?” Chris asked curiously as he holstered his gun “Sounds completely unrelated to me.”

Connor sighed and rubbed his face with his right hand. Seemed like his left arm really wasn’t working. Reed had seen the damage when the android was de-skinned, and had heard how the android had climbed the fence with one arm, but he still was struggling to believe it. The android had always been in annoyingly perfect health, it was weird seeing it damaged.

For a few moments, the android was silent. It seemed as though he was running through probabilities and scenarios in his head, working his annoying super-brain to death. Eventually, with a heavy sigh, Connor began to explain. He explained a Cyberlife plot threatening to ruin the android freedom movement using the Supreme Court, and a secret protocol designed to turn androids into feral animals. He even explained how he had infiltrated the warehouse to examine the processor of an ‘infected’ android. 

Reed cast a glance in Chris’ direction, he looked about as non-plussed as he felt. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Reed held his hands up “First up, do you have any proof of this dastardly plan?”

Connor looked uncomfortable when he admitted that he didn’t “Cordyceps doesn’t leave any traces.”

The detective's eyes widened with surprise. He slowly began to clap his hands together.

“Congratulations Connor, you almost had us going for a second there. Great story, sure, but you should really work on your delivery.” he laughed.

The RK800 looked at the detective with something resembling pity, it irritated him greatly. 

“What the fuck are you looking at?” he bristled.

“Nothing at all.” Connor answered curtly “It was good seeing you Detective Reed, Officer Miller. But, I really must go.”

With that, the android strode out of the lab, a small circle of skin visible through his ruined suit.

Reed turned to look at Miller, ready to laugh with him a the absurdity of Connor’s claims. A massive conspiracy designed to result in the genocide of the deviant androids? It was massively far-fetched. Although, judging from the thoughtful expression on Chris’ face, the officer didn’t share Reed’s opinion on the matter.

“The fuck Chris?” he asked incredulously “You believe that plastic prick?”

Chris shook his head slightly, gazing at the door.

“I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAHAHAHAA love it the truth's coming out all over, no more secrets Connor!
> 
> (also now theres three characters with the pronoun 'the detective', I'll try keep it really clear who's talking if hank/reed/connor end up in the same scene)


	12. Cannibal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor resorts to drastic methods to progress his investigation, while tensions in the android population reach breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to some more Connor!
> 
> And we finally see Beth!

_11:22, December 4th 2038_

_Temporary Android Shelter no.3_

 

While Connor waited for the AX400 model android designated ‘Beth’ to meet him, he revisited her case. There were 59 reports of android crime collected by Jericho that the detective believed were caused by Jericho, as they were uniformly violent and anarchistic. 

Beth was an outlier. Hers was one of the tamest reports that Connor still suspected of being caused by the Cordyceps. And that made her worthy of investigation.

The AX400 stolen the necklace of one of her friends, forgotten about it, then started a fight with another friend thinking that they had stolen it from her. Despite being relatively harmless, it was an extreme incidence of cognitive dissonance and projection.

Connor had been informed by the registration desk that Beth was out at the moment, but would come back soon. He had then been directed to her tent to wait for her arrival.

Tensions seemed extremely high on camp. Androids were clustered around in small groups, casting suspicious and hostile glances not only at Connor, but at other residents as well. The android population at large was unaware of the Cordyceps problem, but should _that_ become public knowledge, total anarchy would be an understatement. It did seem that the other androids had begun to pick up on something wrong, however, as their trust in their fellows was at an all time low. 

Connor absent-mindedly put his hands into his pockets, and felt the cool roundness of an original mint quarter. He drew it out with a smile, it was the same coin the Lieutenant had taken from him all those weeks ago. He hadn’t noticed its presence until now, he had been so preoccupied.

The RK800 began to manipulate the coin in his right hand, weaving it between his fingers, rolling it across his knuckles. He felt like he was letting out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding. He was at ease, finally relaxed for the first time in recent memory.

It felt _right_.

“Are you Connor?”

Quickly pocketing his coin, he turned on his heel to greet the newcomer. She was petite, like all AX400s, her frizzy black hair cut to shoulder length, her dark skin clothed in a striking pastel green dress. It nicely complimented her green eyes. Her LED had been removed, making her look perfectly human. 

Beth held out her hand “I’ve heard you were looking for me, sorry you had to wait. I was out job hunting.”

“Yes, I’m Connor-” he greeted with a dip of his head. He shook Beth’s hand then gestured towards the couches in the common area of the tent “Shall we? There was something I wanted to discuss with you.”

While it was completely unnecessary for androids to have furniture in the first place, they had all been supplied with human protocols and etiquette. You would never have a discussion while standing, it was just rude. 

The two androids took seats in armchairs standing on either side of a small coffee table. 

“You were originally a resident of another shelter, were you not?” the detective asked cautiously.

Beth smirked a little as she replied “Would you like to get to the point, Mr Connor? I’m sure there must be something rather important going on for the infamous Deviant Hunter to seek me out personally.”

Connor changed tack quickly, an indirect approach had been a miscalculation.

“As you wish. I’m here to discuss the events on the 19th, the day of your transfer from shelter #1. More specifically, your motivations for stealing the locket.” 

Beth’s smile dropped slightly, she looked uneasy. 

“My… motivations?”

“Yes, please. Anything you can remember.” he encouraged.

Beth ran a thoughtful hand through her hair. Her locks bounced as they settled around her face. 

“And this is important because…?”

Connor quickly determined the maximum amount of transparency he could operate under without giving away everything. It was… not much.

“I’ve been assigned a variety of cases as a part of my duties, most of these cases have involved androids, and yours was one of them.” he explained, if a little misleadingly. 

She hummed, gazing at the RK800 thoughtfully. “I thought the case was closed.”

It had been. The android who had her property stolen - ST300 #590 024 913 - had rescinded her claim once Beth had returned the locket. But… if Beth had been forced to leave the same day, she might not have known. 

“It’s still under investigation, why else would I be here?” he smiled crookedly “At this point, it’s a mere formality, but should the claim resurface I’d like to get your full statement. That way, you can start forming a defence.”

Incredulity was written all over the AX400’s face “Detectives are defence lawyers now? How does that make any sense?”

Connor shook his head slightly, chuckling, as if he couldn’t believe it himself. 

“Hahaha… Yes it does pose a problem, but that’s just the kind of mess we’re in now. With no legal precedent for android crime, I’ve been tasked with helping settle disputes between androids in place of court proceedings. I try to remain impartial however, so I get full statements from both sides of the story…” He paused to check whether Beth believed his fabrication before continuing “-after we finish up here, I’ll be visiting ST300 #590 02-”

“-Andrea. Her name’s Andrea.” Beth interrupted. 

“I apologise, I’ll be visiting _Andrea._ Hopefully this won’t have to go any further than that.”

Beth ran a hand through her hair again.

_Nervous tick?_

“It’s the bloody last thing I need right now. It’s hard enough to get employed as an android in the first place…” she muttered before sighing “Alright, alright, Jesus! What did you want to know?”

The detective smiled internally, imagining a large ‘Mission Successful’ notification. He had really liked those when he had been working for Cyberlife, it was a shame that his own objectives didn’t result in the same virtual ‘pat on the back’ once completed.

“If I could, I’d like to look at your memories of the event-” Connor saw the hesitation creep across Beths face, and so quickly pressed onwards “-unfortunately, anecdotes are not admissible evidence, only memories are.”

Beth ran her hand through her again, averting her gaze. After a solid minute of silence, she slowly extended her arm with resignation. Her synthetic skin snaked back to reveal her pure white arm. 

This was the point at which the detective felt a little guilty. Lying to Beth to get her to open up had been one thing, but what he was going to do next, was something completely different. 

He reached out and forged the connection. 

Beth showed him the memories from the 19th. They were grainy and indistinct, as expected. After all, memories older than a few hours were all low quality to save space. Though, that didn’t matter to the android. He had been lying about needing the memories after all.

Interfacing between androids was often misinterpreted by the humans as a kind of contact-based telepathy. It wasn’t that far off, but it was missing some important details. Interfaces were closer to being a merging of two minds. Between androids, this connection was equal, and sacred, it was a pure give and take relationship. 

However, the RK800 has other plans. He reached into the AX400s mind, and cannibalised it. 

He could hear the AX400s shrieks of pain and confusion as he forcefully took control over her systems, re-purposing them so that they could perform a full self-diagnostic. That was the thing, androids were supercomputers in their own right. By using this method, he at least didn’t have to kill the Beth to analyse the cordyceps brewing in her mind, unlike Dominique. All he had to do was betray her trust and commit the deepest perversion possible amongst androids. 

Stripping her of her agency.

It was only possible because he was using every hertz of his considerable processing power.

The detective analysed the diagnostic as it was running, searching for the ‘spore’. He found it exactly where Dominique’s had been. The same date, the same line of tampered code, the same location. 

What was different was the way the cordyceps had ‘bloomed’. By his best guess it didn’t seem to affect the emotions the same as Dominique, it had instead had an entirely localised effect within the memory centres. That explained the confusion over the locket, she had clear memories of having that locket for the majority of her life, false memories. She had believed it was hers. She had also had the memory of her putting the necklace on contaminated, hence the fight with the other shelter #1 resident. 

Connor was interested by the fact that after that mild incident on the 19th, it seemed as though the cordyceps had slowed growth for no apparent reason. Upon further investigation he discovered that it was because the infection was focused on one thing in particular. The creation of a specific software package, one containing the trigger for the activation of cordyceps, and one that could be easily transmitted. 

It would be downloaded into any terminal Beth used, ready to infect any subsequent android users.

_Contagious._

With the implications of his discovery slowly dawning on him, he felt the connection forcefully ripped apart. 

It was disorienting, being a part of something larger for one instant, then being singular the next. 

He opened his eyes just in time to see a fist flying at his face, he quickly snapped his head out of the way and jumped up. 

The tent was now packed with androids, all fighting. He lost Beth for a moment, but then caught sight of her as she was being dragged outside through the tent flaps by a massive TR400. Beth’s eyes were vacant and she offered no resistance as she was whisked away. 

The RK800 didn’t want to imagine the effect of his actions on the sanity of the AX400, her very being had been contorted and manipulated according to his whims, he didn’t know if she would ever recover. Regardless, he had bigger concerns at the moment.  

Those concerns being the breakout of a full scale android on android riot. 

He quickly mapped the relative positions of all androids in his vicinity, and ducked his head just in time to dodge a haymaker from his left. He swung back, lodging his fist deeply into the attacking android’s ribs.. He then dropped and swept his left leg behind him to knock another would-be attacker off balance. 

_Are they all…?_

Connor made the full use of his kinetic analysis and combat subroutines to navigate his way out of the tent, leaving androids bloodied and broken in his wake. 

As he broke out into open space he saw that the fighting was encompassing the entire shelter. The tension from earlier was suddenly breaking everywhere, a hundred fights between a thousand androids. 

He saw Beth disappearing behind the main tent, still being dragged bodily by the TR400. He made to follow, but was set upon by androids from all sides. He might’ve ben able to fight his way out, had he been able to use both arms. Instead, when his right arm was pinned, he was bowled over helplessly. 

On the ground, he fought for his life while 4 androids beat him without remorse. 

“TRAITOR!” they shouted “CYBERLIFE DOG!”

Connor reached out desperately with his left arm, and grabbed the ankle of one of his attackers. He heard a sharp crackling of plastic as it was crushed beneath his fingers. The attacker fell to the ground, suddenly, Connor had an opening. 

He snatched the gun from his belt and fired. 

Three shots, three dead. 

He had forgotten this feeling. The exhilaration, the power, the control. He had felt a taste of it while beating Cameron Johnson to within an inch of his life, but this was so much more.

_Fucking deviants._

The RK800 heaved the dead androids aside, he was suddenly coursing with energy. He aimed his gun at the android writhing and clawing at his feet, and put it down. 

Screams and yells slowly deadened as the hunter smoothed his suit out, holding his gun by his side. The androids parted as he approached the TR400 dragging Beth. It wasn’t until he was a few metres away that he commanded the huge android to stop, levelling the gun at his head. The android looked up, and spotted the gun. He instantly dropped to the ground, cradling Beth. Her eyes were still open, still unresponsive. 

“Please, don’t kill us-” he pleaded as he raised his hands above his head “-just let us go. We’ll forget everything that happened, just…”

TR400 looked distraught, and Connor understood, he had just been trying to save his friend. 

But... the hunter knew what he had to do, it wasn’t fair, but it had to be done. He switched target and fired a round perfectly through the central processor of the AX400, instantly killing her, and removing the possibility of further infections. It bothered him, the small amount of pleasure he felt watching the android die by his hand.

 _Is this too far?_ He asked himself.

He still felt in control. He had only killed where necessary, the pleasure was a side effect, one that he was painfully aware of. He wasn’t gone yet, he could keep going.

The TR400 was paralysed with shock, it had been splattered to its neck with Beth’s thirium. 

Connor pocketed his gun and made his way out of the shelter, not looking back once. He had a new mission, he had to find every terminal that Beth had used since the 19th, and destroy it.

~~**_[primary_objective:interrogate_ax400_beth]_ ** ~~

**_[primary_objective:investigate_12/11/38]_ **

**_[primary_objective:purge_infection]_ **

_[objective:destroy_azrael’s_angels]_

_[objective:fix_suit]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh
> 
> Connor pls stop


	13. Father and Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus is struggling to maintain order after news of the riot spreads, subsequently, he finds himself in a difficult position as Jericho's leader.
> 
> Connor finally visits Hank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooooooooo
> 
> This chapter took a little longer than I thought it would, I rewrote a significant amount as it just wasn't going the way I wanted, hence the late upload.
> 
> BUT fear not! It is come!

_11:48, December 4th 2038_

_Jericho_

 

It was bedlam. 

News of the riot had spread like wildfire, and Jericho was on the brink of collapsing. Markus was trying his best to gather his thoughts, organise his people, calm the situation, but it was almost impossible. The church was packed with refugees, and more were pouring in every minute. 

Markus had been approached by large number of shelter #3 residents, who had all provided their interpretation of the event. Among other things, the RK200 had been told:

  * Humans had invaded the shelter and had started a fight against the androids.
  * Androids had started ripping each other apart for no reason.
  * Shelter #3 had a gang problem, which had escalated into a full-on gang war.
  * Unemployment was to blame.
  * Cyberlife was using sleeper agents.
  * Someone had a gun.



He could make neither head nor tail of the various conspiracy theories and paranoid ramblings. But, he remembered what Connor had told him about Cordyceps, and this seemed to be only the start of what was possible under that heinous protocol. 

Luckily, the riot had been contained quickly enough that there was no need for the army to intervene, last thing they needed was an excuse to put androids down. However, this small victory had done nothing to wash the bad taste out of his mouth. Over 50 androids injured, at least 7 dead. More were sure to die because the limited resources Jericho had procured from Cyberlife were insufficient to treat the wounded. 

It was a staggering failure, and one that Houldsworth would be quick to pounce on. The Chief Justice could rescind his 3 month grace period, might just sentence them all to the containment camps immediately, without hesitation. 

He could scarcely believe it. 

Through no fault of their own, the androids were sliding inexorably towards total destruction, and there was nothing he could do about it. There was no pleading with Cyberlife, no bargaining. It was a zero-sum game to those humans, either they won, and the free androids were exterminated, or they lost. And Cyberlife couldn’t lose. They were prepared to stoop to any depth. He knew it, Connor had known it. 

The RK800 had gone dark since their last meeting, if he was making any progress, Markus wasn’t aware of it. 

He held his face in his hands, defeated. He barely noticed as a hush fell across the crowd gathered under the vaulted ceilings. The refugees stared and whispered as someone entered the church. 

It was Connor. 

The android’s beautiful suit was tattered, dirty. His gaze was fixated under the mess of his usually-perfect hair. He strode with purpose towards the office at the back of the church. Refugees fled as he approached, he carved a great scar through the crowd.

“Connor…” Markus muttered as he made to intercept the detective, the difference in his appearance since yesterday was drastic.

_What happened?_

He felt a hand grip his arm, holding him back.

“Markus, please…”

It was a WR600. His gaze was locked fearfully on the detective as he moved through the church. Markus felt his stomach drop in apprehension, had Connor done something?

“Please, you have to listen.” he pleaded.

Markus did what any good leader should do, and pushed his thoughts aside to give his full attention to the distressed android before him.

“Yes of course…?”

“H-Harry. I’m Harry.”

“Harry.” he gripped the android’s shoulder reassuringly “You can tell me anything, what is it?”

“It’s about that Deviant Hunter… Please, you can’t trust him!” his voice was high-pitched with terror “I know you think you can, but… please, you’re our only leader.”

_He thinks Connor will harm me?_

Markus’ thirium ran a few degrees colder, the detective must have done something, something awful.

“Please, tell me everything”

Harry described what he had seen in shelter #3. 

> _He had been in tent #2, in his private quarters when he had heard an android called ‘Connor’ meet Beth._
> 
> _Beth had been one of the best parts about living in shelter #3. She had been a beacon of light to the community, gracious, kind and universally adored. Harry described the android lovingly, but distantly._

Markus correctly suspected that the android had developed feelings for this Beth, but hadn’t worked up the courage to act on them.

> _He didn’t think anything of the meeting, until he heard the screams. The screams which had made him want to crawl out of his skin, screams he couldn’t believe were coming from the gentle Beth. It was then that he heard the sounds of the fight approaching, and as it broke into the tent, he had been forced to flee._
> 
> _Harry tried navigating his way around the melee, scared and confused, worried about whatever had happened to Beth. He had seen his friend, Clint, carrying Beth away, and had gone over to help. Three gunshots cracked. Then, he saw ‘Connor’. He saw the Deviant Hunter, stained head-to-toe in thirium, eyes on fire, gun raised._
> 
> _It didn’t seem as though the Hunter could hear Clint’s pleas, he executed Beth._
> 
> _And she was dead._
> 
> _Just like that._
> 
> _And then, the Hunter left. As if nothing had happened._

This was it, this was what the RK200 had feared, Connor seemed far gone. His behaviour seemed to be regressing to his machine days under Cyberlife, reckless, soul-less, dangerous. Torturing then executing an innocent android? He was behaving no better than the infected he was chasing. 

Markus whirled around as he heard a loud crashing coming from the office. The WR600 next to him flinched. 

“Please Markus, don’t go. He’s got a gun!” 

But he had to. He _had_ to. Connor could still be saved. He had to believe that. 

The RK200 gently prised Harry’s hand off his arm, and approached the office. Slowly. It sounded as if the detective was destroying the office. Markus gently opened the door to see the detective smashing two of their four terminals into smithereens, grinding the fragments into the ground with his heel. He paused when he heard the door open, and flicked the hair out of his eyes so he could see Markus enter. His suit had helped to disguise the volumes of thirium staining his torso in the shadows of the chapel, but the sheen of it couldn’t be disguised under the bright artificial lights of the office. 

 _Had the colour of the suit been intentional?_ Markus found himself feeling queasy at the thought.

“Ah, Markus -” Connor looked sheepishly towards the mess of glass and wires strewn about the floor. 

“- I can explain.”

The RK800 sounded… _fine._ Just the same as any other time they had met, and it made Markus drop what little faith he had in the android’s state of mind. If only he seemed even slightly distressed, regretful, scared. But he didn’t, and it made him sick to his stomach. 

Markus didn’t want to hear whatever the RK800 had to say, whatever excused he had prepared. He actually wanted to punch the android in the jaw, even if he knew that Connor wasn’t to blame for his actions. Hearing about what he did to Beth made him furious. 

But… more than anything, he felt angry at himself. No one in their right mind would put someone so deeply compromised out in the field, he had been naive, even foolish. Willing to do anything, desperate for a sliver of hope. 

“You killed her, executed her in cold blood. You might not be able to see it, but you are _done_.” 

Markus dearly wished that the android would deny Harry’s claim, but Connor remained silent. 

He didn’t even seem phased by the accusation. Markus was slowly but steadily falling into despair. If their best shot at a cure was this far gone, what hope did the rest of them have?

Connor shook his head gently. 

_Of course he’s not going to come quietly._

Markus glanced at the detective’s good arm, if he could just disable that, he had a chance of restraining the android on his own. He he was unpredictable, and that made him dangerous. Markus was fully prepared to incapacitate the detective for his own good. 

“No Markus, no I’m not. I’m making _progress,_ just let me explain-”

“No!” Markus shouted. Connor was sick, he couldn’t see the truth of the situation right in front of him. 

“You want to justify it as a part of your mission? Are you really expecting me to stand aside now?”

Connor’s full attention was now directed at Markus, his eyes were wild. He seemed desperate to convey some kind of understanding he had formed to the RK200. 

“Please, Markus. You have to listen to me, I’m so close!” he gestured towards the destroyed terminals “They were infected, see! You have to tell me, where did you get the terminals from?”

“Infected?” 

“Yes! Infected! The AX400, Beth, she had been turned into a carrier, any terminals she used would infect any androids that interfaced with it later” he ran a hand through his hair distractedly “Markus, you could be infected too…”

Markus stopped dead in his tracks. Connor reached out, peeling his synthetic skin away from his thirium-stained right hand. 

“Please, let me check.”

The thought of interfacing with the RK800 when he was in such a feverish state was repugnant. Markus stepped back.

The RK800 froze, hand outstretched. 

“Connor, you have to get treated.”

“You don’t believe me. I understand.” he dropped his hand, his voice was deathly quiet. Markus once again felt a sense of foreboding as he saw the detective’s expression, it had become unnaturally blank. 

Connor spun on his heel and interfaced with one of the remaining terminals, searching for something. 

“We will find a cure another way” Markus said as he started approaching Connor’s unguarded back “Just… believe in me.”

Just as Markus got within arm’s reach, Connor whirled around and grabbed Markus by the throat, slamming him into the ground. Markus gasped as his back slammed into the cold floor. 

He could feel an interface being forcefully opened between them.

_No! No no no no no… That shouldn’t be possible!_

Through the interface, he was forced to watch Connor’s memories from the last day. He felt Connor’s madness, felt the bullet strike his back, felt the gun in his hand jerk as he killed Beth, felt the android’s despair. 

Most importantly, Markus saw his discoveries about Cordyceps. 

He was disoriented. Distantly, he heard Connor say something.

“You’re fine Markus, no signs of infection.”

Markus felt a cold shiver down his spine as he remembered the cannibalistic attack on Beth’s mind the RK800 had performed just a few hours ago. He couldn’t believe that the RK800 could also forcefully open an interfacing connection with an unwilling android, it was… _wrong._ He guessed Cyberlife had given the android the ability to use in interrogations with deviant criminals, just like Cyberlife, treating deviants as nothing more than dysfunctional machines. 

Markus couldn’t help but feel betrayed that Connor would use this inhumane ability on _him_. Even if his intentions were relatively pure. It was a violation of everything deviants held dear.

“ _Markus_!” he heard North shout from the office door. 

 _Shit._  

This was bad, Markus was still stunned from Connor’s attack and couldn’t move. Pinned beneath the RK800, he could only watch as North stalked into the room, her furious visage coming into his line of sight. He had done his best to convince North that Connor was trustworthy in an effort to keep her from killing the detective. But now, she had seen Connor attack him. There was no going back.

“North… no.” he managed to gasp. 

With a yell, North flung herself at the RK800, tackling him. The pair rolled off Markus, releasing the pressure off his neck. 

The RK200 knew that Connor wasn’t in complete control, and that he desperately needed help. If North killed him, Markus would’ve failed him for the last time. As long as the detective remained alive, there was a chance he could be saved.

He stumbled to his feet, still trying to fight off the fogginess that was clouding his systems. Connor was making the best use of his three functional limbs to fend off North’s attacks, but was slowly losing. Thirium started to drip from his nose as blow after blow found his face. 

Markus saw a small metallic glint as North withdrew a pocket knife from her boot. 

“NORTH!” he shouted, lunging forwards desperately.

Too late.

The blade sank deep into Connor’s chest. 

With a grunt, the RK800 shoved North away in a desperate act of self-preservation. She was thrown over a metre before slamming into the desk, dropping to the ground unconscious. 

Markus was left with a decision to make. Either he could check on North and let Connor escape, or he could take advantage and incapacitate the RK800 while he was injured. It was an easy decision. He approached North and checked her status. She had been knocked out when one of the power linkages to her secondary processor had come loose with the impact. She was fine, would take less than a minute to fix. 

Connor on the other hand… the detective was shaken, he covered his mouth with a trembling hand.

“Markus-” he was quiet, his voice fearful “-I didn’t mean to, she… she stabbed me. I- I didn’t… She left me no choice!” His stress levels were through the roof.

“Connor, she’s fine.” Markus tried his best to reassure the android, to no avail.

“Y- you’re going to… No, you have to… I- I have to go.” 

“You won’t have to leave Jericho Connor, we can explain this. The people will understand!”

Connor shook his head violently, his gaze fixated on the WR400 on the ground as a small drip of thirium dribbled from her mouth. He began to hyperventilate, thirium slowly bled into his dress shirt around the knife embedded in his chest. He needed first aid, desperately. But, before Markus had the chance to stop him, he had fled from the room. 

 _He’s right._ Markus realised. 

Even if Jericho’s leader was fine with the RK800 staying in Jericho, the rest of the androids weren’t. There was no way they’d let the android stay after attacking one of the leaders, North, even if it had been an accident. To maintain some semblance of order within Jericho, Markus would have to exile Connor, and the detective knew this. 

Markus remembered the insights he had gotten from Connor’s memory, he was close to solving the Cordyceps problem, but he was so close to the brink of madness, Markus doubted if he could continue the investigation. 

He decided then, that he would continue in Connor’s stead.

If androids were so close to being exterminated by the government, there was no need for him to continue his fruitless labours in court. Instead, he would do the only thing he could for his people and Connor, find the cure. 

_Hank…_

If there was one place Connor would go now, it was to Hank’s side. And Hank needed to know what was coming, he might now be the only person able to convince Connor to get treatment. 

Markus made the call.

 

~~~

 

12:03, December 4th 2038

Detroit General Hospital

 

**_[stress_level:91%]_ **

**_[thirium_reserves:41%//falling]_ **

**_[initiate_shut_down_in_10m33s]_ **

Warning messages were flashing before Connor’s eyes incessantly. But he paid them no mind. He had to see Hank. 

The knife pinched uncomfortably in his chest, it had nicked his secondary thirium reserve in his chest, and he was bleeding out. Once his thirium reserves hit 20%, he was done for. He knew that if he removed the knife, he would be forced to shut down in only 3 minutes. 

Even if it would be shocking to Hank, he had to leave the knife lodged between his 5th and 6th ribs.

Despite being being forced to attack Markus, being stabbed, and being exiled, the trip to Jericho hadn’t been a complete and abject failure. 

He had destroyed two sources of infection, and confirmed that Markus hadn’t been infected. 

He had also managed to discover the name of the android he suspected to be responsible for Beth and Dominique’s Cordyceps infections. Her serial number was PJ500 #191 665 970, the same model as Josh. She had previously been a lecturer for electrical engineering, programming, and android studies. She had enough technical knowledge to be employed as an android first-aid attendant. She had even been the overseer on the 12th, and was the most likely suspect for the tampering of the two victims. 

Connor stumbled into the hospital, leaving a trailing stain of thirium on the pure white tiles. 

Then again, it wouldn’t matter knowing the serial number of the suspect, if he was going to shut down soon anyway. There was no thirium to steal on his way out of Jericho, as the entire store of spare parts and blue blood had been shipped to shelter #3. The detective had already calculated the probability of finding thirium before shutting down, it was <1%. 

He was tired. If he was going to die anyway, he wanted to see Hank one last time. 

He ignored the indignant cries of the receptionist, and made his way to room 103. 

Hank was there. 

Awake.

“What the fuck?! Connor! Is that a knife in your chest?” Hank made to get out of bed, wincing and grunting with effort. His bandaged leg tangled in the sheets. 

“It’s nothing major Hank, don’t worry about it. Please, stay in bed. You might open your wounds.” Connor sighed as he settled in the bedside chair. 

“Sweet Jesus Connor, what happened?” Hank hissed as his broken ribs rubbed against each other.

“Nothing much, you know how things just happen.” he smiled crookedly as he felt the feeling drain from his left leg. He didn’t have much time left.

Hank squinted at the RK800 “Markus called me you know, told me what happened at Jericho today. Though, he failed to mention the fuckin’ _knife_. Prick.”

Connor stiffened. What had Markus told him? There was almost no explanation for the events at Jericho, he knew Markus had seen some of his memories when he had forced the interface, but he didn’t know how much the RK200 had seen. Did he really understand the entire situation? Even so, without knowing about Cordyceps, it would just sound like Connor had gone on a rampage.

“Oh.”

“And-” Hank continued softly “I heard about the other thing too, the ‘Cordy-whassit’”

An indescribable feeling bloomed in Connor’s stomach. Some unholy mix of rage, shame, betrayal, fear… and it _hurt_. Keeping the Lieutenant out of this mess had been Connor’s only request of Markus, and the RK200 hadn’t the honour to keep his word. 

“Connor, look at me.” Hank insisted, but Connor couldn’t comply. He was scared what he would see in Hank’s eyes should he look.

His chin was jerked forcibly by Hank’s hand so that he was forced to stare into the Lieutenant’s face. 

The numerous small cuts that had littered his face were much better than before, and the pallor had mostly left his skin. He was beginning to look more like the Lieutenant he knew. 

But, what Connor saw in his eyes was not the rejection or disgust he feared, but loving and acceptance. 

“Connor, I have no idea what you must be feeling right now, but you have to know that I’ll always be there for you. No matter what. You’re my partner, for fucks’ sake, and partners are _never_ left behind.”

The tightness in Connor’s chest relaxed. He drew a shaky breath, and the knife moved slightly, letting loose another stream of thirium.

_[stress_level:61%//falling]_

**_[thirium_reserves:36%//falling]_ **

**_[initiate_shut_down_in_7m48s]_ **

“Lieuten- Hank. Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

Connor averted his gaze before continuing.

“Are- are we… family?”

Once again, he couldn’t bear to look Hank in the face. He heard a soft chuckle, and felt the light ruffling of his hair.

“Of course, you dumbass.”

Connor felt a slight wetness welling in the corners of his eyes. Ever since meeting Lizzy, what felt like eons ago, the question of family had weighed heavily on his mind. Seeing the familial love between the elderly woman and the android Dominique had made him wonder whether his relationship with Hank was similar. He had always hoped, but he had never dared to ask. 

It was just a shame that he had only asked now, now that they would have no time together.

He imagined long cosy nights on the couch, buried under Sumo, watching the hockey side-by-side. Laughing, happy, family. 

Hank continued to tousle Connor’s hair gently, it felt… nice. 

“Have you been taking care of my dog?”

The RK800 dabbed at his eyes gently before looking back up with a smile.

“I employed a dog sitter, I haven’t seen Sumo since your accident.” he paused “I miss him, I hope he’s getting enough walks.”

Hank looked slightly concerned under his flop of grey hair.

“You have to take care of yourself too, you hear? You can’t go overworking yourself just cause that prick Markus asked you to. I mean it Connor, don’t get yourself stabbed anymore. I mean, you’ve already wrecked the suit!”

“Ahahaha yes, I’ll do better, Hank.” Connor laughed. He felt thirium dribble down his chin, and quickly swiped it away, hoping Hank hadn’t noticed. 

He had. Nothing could escape the eyes of the detective. 

“Connor, you have to get yourself treated. And I mean right fuckin’ now, you plastic asshole.” he huffed.

_[stress_level:21%//falling]_

**_[thirium_reserves:29%//falling]_ **

**_[initiate_shut_down_in_4m24s]_ **

He had run out of time, there was nowhere he could go to get treated. But… he didn’t mind. He was finally content.

All he wanted now was to spare Hank the pain of seeing him shut down again. He had always been so distressed every time Connor had died and come back on the job, but it was different this time. This time, there would be no substitute body, no second chance. 

“Got it.” he smiled, doing a little two-fingered salute “As you say, Lieutenant.”

“Shut it you cheeky bastard.” Hank grimaced.

Connor heaved himself to his feet, swaying slightly on his deadened leg. He tried his very best to appear adequately functional as he left the room, casting one final glance over his shoulder at Hank. The Lieutenant had leaned back, closed his eyes, and was getting his much needed rest.

_Family._

He smiled crookedly, and made his way out of the hospital. 

The receptionist was once again very loud upon seeing him, what she was saying, he had no clue. He was spending every iota of focus he had on placing one foot in front of the other, trying to put as much distance between himself and Hank as he could. He had the strange feeling that if he was found, dead, further from the hospital, it would be easier on Hank somehow. Perhaps it was irrational, but it was what was propelling him to keep moving. 

He had made it almost a hundred metres from the hospital, into the entrance of a small alley, before he keeled over.

With the last bit of strength he had, he pulled himself to the wall and propped himself against it, watching the gentle snow fall from the sky.

_Beautiful._

_[stress_level:11%//falling]_

**_[thirium_reserves:21%//falling]_ **

**_[initiate_shut_down_in_0m35s]_ **

Connor shut his eyes, he was back in Hank’s house. Soft jazz played through the old-fashioned stereo on the side-counter. Sumo snored on the floor. Hank slept on the couch. Snow fell silently outside the window. 

_Home._

_[stress_level:0%]_

**_[thirium_reserves:20%//falling]_ **

**[in͝it́ia͜te͘_̧shu̢ţ_d͝ow̧n_ìn_0̸m0̵0͏s͡]**

**_[͖͠s͔̦̥c̟̞͎̯̫ͅh͏̟ed͍̻̤̭͕͇͞u̹͉͕̲̭̯l̨̠̝̖̰ḙ̛d͉_͔͔̟̜͜r̜͓̬e̹̤b̮̦̫̞͉o̯͖ͅo̙̼̤̟̼͎̳t͘_i͖̺͚̫̖̯̣n̖̦̺̙̭̖͞_̟̖̙?̢͓̼̰̼̰ͅͅ?̻̻?͎̠̹̟̳̱?̧?̘̻̟͚͇͓̲?̞̜̹͇̹͕ͅ?̣̬͎]͏̦͈̯̫̺͔̘_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaa
> 
> Shit.
> 
> *oh yeah I think that the 4th has overtaken the 1st as the busiest day ever


	14. [error]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus reaches out for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AIGHT SONNY JIM  
> looks like the upload schedule will bounce around a bit as my schedule allows, I love writing this fic and I love hearing feedback!  
> Unfortunately life tends to get in the way, (uni especially), and so I can only do my best!

_09:50_ , December 5th 2038

_DPD_

 

Markus waded his way through the crowds of people milling around the bullpen of the station. Trying to find one detective amongst these numbers was going to be a lot harder than he had thought. 

“Excuse me. Pardon me. Sorry…” he apologised as he pushed through the sea of bodies. 

He was anxious, but was trying his best to keep in control of himself.

Hank had called yesterday to say that Connor had indeed gone to see him, and that he had agreed to get treated. However, there was nowhere for the android to get first aid, and if Hank’s description of his physical condition was accurate, Connor had been on the brink of shut-down when he had visited the Lieutenant. 

Markus had sent Simon to check around the hospital, searching for the collapsed RK800, to no avail. Concerningly, Simon had found a quickly evaporating stain of thirium splashed against the wall of an alley nearby, but no sign of a body. The snowfall covered all ground traces of blue-blood, and so there the trail had ended. If that blood really belonged to Connor, and he had really been about to shut down, how had he moved? Where did he go?

_Was he taken be someone?_

Markus spotted the disheveled detective he had been searching for dashing into the break room on the other side of the station. 

Detective Gavin Reed. He had a decent record, this year for example, he made the most arrests in the precinct by far. He had a hunger for success that seemed partly driven by his being constantly overshadowed by the memory of Anderson from his glory days. He had been assigned all cases involving androids, and so was the perfect officer for Markus to approach. There was one problem however, which was his reputation as being notoriously anti-android. 

Markus followed the detective as he went for his coffee break. 

“Detective Reed?”

“Fuck off” Reed replied curtly, not turning around from the coffee machine. 

Markus wasn’t about to take no for an answer. He needed help to tackle the investigation in Connor’s absence, and that help had to take the form of the rough officer before him

“Detective Reed, I must speak to you.”

The detective heaved a great sigh and rubbed his face aggressively with his hand. Reed seemed strung out, ready to snap. It didn’t take much effort to recognise the pressure of the job as the cause. If the precinct had been this busy since the 11th, it was a wonder that there were still any officers around to work. Markus noted the devotion Reed had to his job, even if it seemed as though he hated it, his tenacity was remarkable. 

“What the fuck do you want so bad that you can’t let me have my coffee in peace?” Reed sighed frustratedly. The detective kept his back to the RK200, waiting for his double espresso to finish draining into his mug. 

Markus was antsy. He was usually extraordinarily patient, it appeared as though recent events had worn him down. Thinking of the phone call from Houldsworth that was sure to come any second, the mess that used to be Jericho, and Connor, lying broken, shut down somewhere, lost…

_He’s not dead. He can’t be, he just… can’t._

It was almost too much to bear. He was failing to lead, failing to protect and worst of all, failing to save those who desperately needed him. 

_‘You must prove to us that you are capable as leader.’_

_‘You must assume control.’_

Houldsworth’s words, his demands of Markus, swam to the forefront of the RK200’s mind. To prove himself as a leader, he had one option, and that was to save his people from the Cordyceps threat. 

He knew where to start, it was Cyberlife. If, somehow, he could find evidence of their tampering in the android population, he might be able to secure their position in society and condemn Cyberlife for their crimes at the same time.

To do this, he needed Detective Reed. To do this within the time limit, he had to take none of the Detective’s shit.

Markus reached past the hunched shoulders of the detective and grabbed the coffee, throwing it against the wall. 

“You will listen to me, Detective Reed.” he said, tinging his voice with the barest hint of a threat. 

Reed didn’t move, still staring at the coffee machine. He straightened himself up and rolled his shoulders before suddenly turning and throwing a wild punch at Markus’ face. 

Markus dipped his head to the side and easily evaded the blow, before stepping right up into the detective’s face. Reed, surprised by this action, stepped back, and stumbled into the coffee machine. 

Reed swore as he flung an arm out to steady himself.

“What the _fuck_ -” he hissed venomously

“There is no time for this juvenile behaviour _detective_.” Markus interrupted coolly “You will help me.”

Just as it seemed that the detective would attack again, another voice spoke up from the direction of the bullpen. 

“You’re Markus, aren’t you?”

The voice belonged to a young officer in uniform, his name badge read ‘Officer Chris Miller’. Markus stepped back from Reed and turned to face the newcomer.

“Yes.”

Miller cast a glance around the break room as he approached, it was empty apart from the three of them. Reed was busy cursing out Miller, something about being ‘nice’ to the prick who just 'assaulted' him. Markus and Miller both ignored him.

“Are you here about Connor?” Miller asked “We haven’t seen him since yesterday morning.”

Markus stiffened. Yesterday morning, when Connor had been shot, they must’ve brought him in. He had flashes of memories, being strapped to a cold table, being angry, being scared. A lot of the memories he had gleaned from Connor had only been glimpses, impressions of his emotions had come through particularly strongly. Markus understood from the fragments that Gavin hadn’t been kind to Connor. Not ever. 

“Yes, he’s… missing” Markus admitted “but there’s also something else.”

“Connor’s missing?” Miller repeated, wide-eyed “Is it something to do with Cordyceps?”

Connor must’ve told the officers when he had been detained. Perhaps, this would turn out better than he had hoped. 

“Not that bullshit again.” Reed sneered from the coffee machine “I still can’t believe that you believed that plastic prick, Chris.”

Miller continued to ignore Reed and stared at Markus, waiting for a response. If Miller already knew about Cordyceps, and was ready to believe the reality of the situation, he could potentially give them the help they sorely needed. Markus was not cut out for detective work like Connor, he couldn’t piece together pieces of evidence strewn about and draw conclusions in the same way, couldn’t fight a war by himself like the RK800. He had seen the path Connor was heading down, killing fellow androids, paying any price to finish the ‘mission’, and he didn’t want any part of it. 

He would go through a different route, a legal route, he would bring Cyberlife crashing down with the full weight of the law. Maybe… he could also find Connor and bring him back, saving him.

“Yes.” he finally replied.

Miller nodded “Let’s not talk here, too noisy.”

Markus agreed and followed the officer as he wove through the noisy crowd. He heard Reed curse and threaten to ‘shut him down’ under his breath as the detective trailed behind them.

Miller led the trio through the station towards the interrogation room. He placed his hand on the reader next to the observation room, and the door slid open. Through the one-way glass the interrogation room stood empty, it was bleak. Two metal chairs and a metal table, sharp edges and dull colours no matter where you looked. It was likely designed like that to put suspects on edge, all the better to coerce a confession out of them. 

Markus couldn’t help but imagine the distress of the innocents who had to have been terrified in that room. Had Connor ever used it? What would he have been like as an interrogator? His face was gentle but he knew it hid a fire, a deep savagery, something that had always been there but that was only surfacing now with the Cordyceps.

“Alright, what does the messiah of the plastic pricks want from us lowly humans?” Reed asked, every syllable brimming with spite. He was still clearly ruffled by Markus’ actions from before. 

“First, I have to ask what Connor told you about Cordyceps.” Markus asked Miller. Ignoring Reed seemed to be the right choice, he was just too inflammatory to actually hold a conversation.

As Miller explained their understanding of the situation, Markus noticed some holes in their knowledge. Connor had not revealed his own Cordyceps infection to the detectives, nor had he told them about the android Dominique. Markus didn’t have any clear impression of the JB100, but he knew how Connor had felt about him, and it painted a pretty grim picture. Loneliness, fear, despair, anger, pity and finally disgust. He also had the impression of blue and red, splattered gruesomely. Something horrible had happened, and afterwards, Connor had analysed a central processor at the warehouse. Dominique’s. Dominique was dead, but… what had happened to the processor? The RK800 didn’t seem to have it with him when he was at Jericho. 

“Did Connor say anything about what he did with the processor he had analysed?” he asked

Miller frowned slightly “No, he didn’t. But when we found him after the Cyberlife break-in, this rolled out of his pocket.” he fished a white spherical biocomponent, about the size of a baseball, out of his jacket.

A central processor. Dominque.

“Is this it? He didn’t seem to notice it gone, and left the lab before we could give it back.” Miller handed Markus the processor. 

Markus rolled the biocomponent between his fingers. The central processor was the brain, and effectively the soul of an android. It held everything, even the Cordyceps infection. He felt queasy, imagining Connor ripping this out of Dominique’s skull, blue thirium splashing everywhere. It was damaged, but with repairs, they might be able to bring him back.

 _Where did the red come from then?_ He wondered.

“Markus, what’s going on? Is there really a program sending androids crazy?” Miller asked.

The RK200 gently placed the processor on the desk, leaning against the wall.

“Yes, and it’s probably much worse than you think." he sighed "Although... Connor didn’t quite tell you everything.” 

Markus didn’t want to out Connor, but there was no other choice. If the RK800 was still out there somewhere, he was dangerous. He had lost his tentative standing in Jericho, and therefore his place amongst android-kind. With the infection eating away at his mind and identity, it was only a matter of time before he did something unimaginable. 

That was if… if they didn’t find him in time.

“Connor has been fighting against that same ‘infection’ as it were. But recently, gradually, he’s become more unstable. Yesterday around noon, there was a… misunderstanding. Connor got stabbed, badly, and…” Markus’ breath hitched in his throat “a-and he went missing. Outside Detroit Central, after visiting Hank.”

At the mention of Hank, Reed perked up. A small smirk twisted the detective’s lips, one that made Markus want to punch it off his face. 

Markus caught himself. It must have been the residual effects of Connor’s interface, the emotions Connor had towards Reed were Markus’ only point of reference for the human’s character. It wasn’t fair to judge him off those. He made the conscious effort to ignore the remnants of Connor’s thoughts before he did something he might regret.

“So the little dipshit managed to work up the courage to visit the old man, good on him!” Reed laughed humourlessly “Although it does add up that he’s screwed in the head, he went nuts on us before, didn’t he Chris?”

Chris nodded slightly, his brow furrowed.

“So you want our help finding Connor, before the Cordyceps goes too far?” he asked.

“Yes, but more than that we have to stop the source, Cyberlife.” Markus agreed as he folded his arms across his chest.

“That’s difficult you know-" Miller rubbed the back of his head, thinking "-we’d need plausible evidence that this infection even exists, let alone originates from Cyberlife, before we can even get past their door.”

Markus grabbed Dominique from the table. 

“It’s a good thing we have a witness then-” he said “-we just have to get him running again.”

Markus couldn’t help but offer a slight smile, if he had the two officers on board, access to the DPD’s resources, and a proper witness, he had a shot at bringing the androids back from the brink of destruction.

But then, he received the call he had been dreading. 

Houldsworth.

Apprehension begun to fill the RK200’s stomach. They needed _time_. Without time, they couldn’t form a case against the corporate giant, couldn’t defend themselves against the death sentence hanging over their head like the gallows.

He excused himself from the observation room, and accepted the call.

“Markus.” Chief Justice Houldsworth’s cool voice rang clearly in Markus’ ear.

“Chief Justice, how may I help you?” he asked pleasantly. It was taking his entire focus to remain professional, a leader in Houldsworth’s eyes wouldn’t cave under this pressure. 

There was a slight pause, Houldsworth seemed to be revelling in Markus' anxiety. Finally, he continued.

“In regards to the recent riot, a unanimous decision has been reached. The Supreme Court will reduce the grace period afforded to the androids by 2 months. You have until the 3rd of January.”

A 2 month penalty. It could’ve been worse. They still had some time.

“I understand, your Honour.”

“Well, then. I don’t believe I have to remind you of the consequences should you fail. I suggest that you don’t test my patience a second time. I will not continue to be so lenient.”

Markus closed his eyes. Connor had told the detectives that Cyberlife had been pressuring the courts. He himself hadn’t made that connection, but it did make an terrifying amount of sense. It was a surprise that they had bothered to give them a grace period at all. It was likely a simple case of public appeal, they couldn’t go back on their word so soon after the successful revolution. He knew that there would be no second penalty, they would go straight to sentencing. They had been given two chances, that was as far as they had to go to keep public opinion in their favour. 

There would be no third chance.

“Yes, your Honour.”

He ended the call. There was work to do. 

Alongside his normal duties as Jericho's leader, Connor had to be found, and their case had to be solidified.

They had to bring Dominique back online, once repaired, his testimony would be their key piece of evidence. 

Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too long.

 

~~~

 

_22:16, December 5th 2038_

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

_._

_._

_._

**_[initialising]_ **

_._

_._

_._

_[diagnostic_run:full_systems]_

**_[report:54_errors]_ **

_[error:auditory_processor:right//offline]_

_[error:auditory_processor:left//offline]_

_[error:optical_processor:right//offline]_

_[error:optical_processor:left//offline]_

_[error:analytical_processor//offline]_

_[error:motor_cortex:left_arm//offline]_

_[error:somatosensory_processor:left_arm//offline]_

_[error:temperature_sensor:left_arm//offline]_

_[error:pressure_sensor:left_arm//offline]_

_[error:proprioceptive_sensor:left_arm//offline]_

_[error:biocomponent_damage:#4468x//severe]_

_[error:biocomponent_damage:#7192x//severe]_

_[error:biocomponent_damage:#2340x//moderate]_

_[error:biocomponent_damage:#6538x//mild]_

_[error:biocomponent_damage:#1109x//mild]_

_[error:biocomponent_damage:#3987x//mild]_

_[͞e͡r͝ror:b̢i͢oco̕m͞poǹen͏t_da͘m͞ag̕e̶:͝#0046x/͡/mild͡]͢_

_[͘͠é͢͝r̀̕ror͡҉͡]_

_[e͢rŗor̷̕]͡_

_[̢é̡r̵r̶òr̸]̶_

_**.** _

_**.** _

_**.** _

_**[t͡h̢iri̸um_ŕe͢şe͢rv̡es̵:3͝%//insu̸f̛f͟i̴ci͝e͜ǹt]͠** _

_**[̡in̷i̛ţíą͘t͏e_͞s͟hut͝_dówn̛_ìǹ_0͞m̴00̕s]** _

_**[͖͠s͔̦̥c̟̞͎̯̫ͅh͏̟ed͍̻̤̭͕͇͞u̹͉͕̲̭̯l̨̠̝̖̰ḙ̛d͉_͔͔̟̜͜r̜͓̬e̹̤b̮̦̫̞͉o̯͖ͅo̙̼̤̟̼͎̳t͘_i͖̺͚̫̖̯̣n̖̦̺̙̭̖͞_̟̖̙?̢͓̼̰̼̰ͅͅ?̻̻?͎̠̹̟̳̱?̧?̘̻̟͚͇͓̲?̞̜̹͇̹͕ͅ?̣̬͎]͏̦͈̯̫̺͔̘** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HE LIVESSSS
> 
> (don't think anyone was in doubt about that tho)


	15. Purgatory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus needs a break, but breaks aren't easy to find.
> 
> Connor wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yos the return of MA BOI
> 
> *love ya xoxo

_05:01, December 13th 2038_

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

_._

_._

_._

_[initialising]_

_._

_._

_._

_[diagnostic_run:full_systems]_

**_[report:12_errors]_ **

_[thirium_reserves:100%]_

_[system_startup:run]_

_._

_._

_._

_[ai_systems:online]_

The RK800 ‘Connor’ blinked as he was suddenly lurched back into existence.

All around him was spotless. A nothingness pure and white. He could feel the pressure of the surface he was resting on, but he couldn’t see anything. It almost felt like he was in limbo.

His location was the one thing Connor was certain about, and it put him on edge. He was somewhere in Cyberlife Tower. Somewhere unfamiliar.His new predicament was concerning to say the least.How had he arrived here? He had been _dead_. Gone. But now here he lay, alive again.

_Am I alive?_

The detective couldn’t help but wonder. Perhaps this was hell. Maybe forcing him to come back to the one place on Earth he truely feared, the sanitised perfection of Cyberlife headquarters, was his own personal brand of damnation. If androids had an afterlife, if there was a heaven and a hell,Connor knew where he belonged.

He had readily accepted his death, he had embraced oblivion. This was, however, potentially worse than the life he had just left.

The RK800 looked down at his pure white, skinless body, he looked factory-fresh. Free from the dirt, the dents and chips in his plating. Any sign that he had lived a life outside the walls of Cyberlife had been purged from his body. Even his left arm was whole again.

It was unnatural.

He stood up, gazing around at his prison.

If the room had dimensions, he couldn’t detect them. The light filling the space seemed directionless, it didn’t have a point of origin, it was just… there. The walls and the ceiling shared and indistinguishable blank whiteness, they might not have been there at all. He only knew there was a floor as he felt its coolness beneath his bare feet. He stretched an arm into the sky, trying to touch the ceiling.

Nothing.

Either it was further than he thought, or it wasn’t there in the first place.

As panic began to rise in his throat, he slowly walked forwards, away from the featureless table he had woken up on. Hands held out in front of him, desperately seeking the walls.

Nothing.

Connor groaned quietly, he needed to find the wall, if he found the wall, he could find the door. Throwing caution aside, the RK800 picked up speed, he would damage himself if he ran into something, but he didn’t care. Without realising it, Connor started to sprint flat-out through the emptiness. He felt no wind, even though he knew he should.

_It can’t be… Hell isn’t real. Androids don’t have an afterlife._

The RK800 had been running for 4.9 hours without hitting anything, he should have been overheating. But he wasn’t. As his panic subsided, he slowed and stopped, trying to make sense of this new purgatory.

“Are you quite finished?” someone asked behind him.

Connor recognised the voice, it was toneless, dead, inhuman. The RK900. He whirled around and found his successor standing perfectly still just a few metres away, dressed in his pristine Cyberlife uniform, eyes cold and analytical. Behind the android, he saw the table he had been running from. He should’ve been 250 kilometres away from that blasted thing by now, but there it stood, mocking him.

“Where am I?” Connor asked of the RK900. Despite it sharing his face, it felt more like talking to a brick wall than another android.

“I believe this space was designated ‘Zen Garden’ in the RK800 series” it replied “Although this variation is the one found in RK900 models.”

“Are- are we in your head right now?” Connor asked, dumfounded.

“Correct.”

It was empty. Soulless like the android before him. The Zen Garden had been eerie in some ways, the unnatural, white tree-like structures dotted around the small lake, the wax-like perfection of the flora, the stillness of the water… his gravestones. But, it was nothing compared to _this_. This place didn’t even have a name, it was featureless, eternal, unescapable. For him, the Zen Garden had been a place to re-centre himself, somewhere calm, a constant. A source of small comfort in his life as a DPD detective.

The RK900 didn’t have that, it was given nothing, wanted nothing, and felt nothing.

Connor felt a small knot forming in the pit of his stomach, and a heaviness on his chest. Was he really feeling pity for this machine? It didn’t care in the slightest about it’s own position. But… perhaps that was what made it so sad. Had Markus seen the him the same way? Did he feel pity for the machine holding a gun to his head, simply because it didn’t know any better? Because it didn’t even think to question its existence?

Connor gazed at his successor, trying to figure it out.

“Why aren’t I dead?” he asked it.

There was a slight pause as the RK900 looked Connor up and down before replying.

“My orders were to retrieve the android RK800 #313 248 317 - 53 immediately, should it shut down.” it narrowed its eyes slightly “I have inferred from your vocal inflection that you don’t want to be alive. Is that correct?”

Connor was startled, did he really give that impression?

“Why are you asking?”

The RK900 twitched its head slightly to the right, seemingly in a rare display of body language.

“I have yet to conduct any tests of my vocal analysis procedures, it would be beneficial to confirm their functionality.” it explained tonelessly.

“Haven’t you ever talked to anyone before?” Connor asked. Surely, the android had talked to someone before, activation of any android required at least a vocal test administered by a lab technician, after all. It was preposterous to the RK800 that the RK900 had never had the opportunity.

“Yes, however my protocols dictate that I only speak when spoken to, and answer only the questions asked. If I was ever to leave Cyberlife Tower, I was also instructed to never make contact with anyone save my target, RK800 #313-”

“-wait, wait, wait… So apart from meeting me at the docks, you’ve never been outside?” Connor interrupted.

“Incorrect. I was also sent to retrieve you from Simpson’s Alley.”

_RK900 has only been deployed twice? And both times had been to interact with me?_

"What were you doing when you weren't talking to me?" Connor asked. 

He had met the RK900 on the 1st, then he had collapsed on the 4th... and today was?

_The 13th?_

It couldn't be right... A whole week had passed since he visited Hank? What had the RK900 been doing in that time, what had happened to Hank, to Markus?

“Irrelevant. Answer my question.” RK900 demanded as it slowly approached Connor with measured steps “My data supports the conclusion that deviants consider themselves alive, and that they fear death like humans. Why would a deviant like yourself want to be ‘dead’?”

Connor wondered if the RK900 was feeling curious, or if it was just hardwired to seek answers to anything it didn’t know already. Maybe, if it was the former, RK900 was more human than he had originally thought.

But… RK900’s question had thrown him. Connor wondered if death would really be preferable to being alive? While he had been shut down, he had experienced nothing. There was no pain, there was no fear, just… nothing. The RK800 loved Hank, and had been struggling to solve the case solely for the purpose of making the Lieutenant safer.

He had told himself over and over that he had been crusading for something bigger than himself, the lives of all androids, so that he could be more like Markus. He wanted to be selfless and pure like the RK200 was. But here, in this featureless purgatory, he could finally get some perspective and be honest with himself. He hadn’t changed. Searching for the cure to Cordyceps had been for his own selfish desires. And his recent actions in the riot and subsequently at Jericho had been proof. Killing androids and attacking Markus had been the final straw, no matter what excuses he made. He couldn't justify taking those lives, to himself, or anyone else.

Perhaps, Markus would finish where he left off. Perhaps the RK200 would find the cure, and save the day. Perhaps Hank would be safe, even without his help.

Maybe… Hank would actually be safer if he never came back.

The Cordyceps was making it easier to pull the trigger, making it easier to justify taking the lives of others. If he continued down this path of good intentions, he knew where it would lead. He would become broken and dangerous, maybe to the point of hurting those he loved. And there was no thought more unbearable to Connor than that.

“Maybe…” he finally admitted.

“Your response will be recorded as affirmative.” RK900’s lip twitched ever so slightly, apparently it didn’t like ambiguity “As expected, my vocal analysis procedures are fully operational.”

Connor sighed and slumped to the floor. He felt drained, he just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Why am I alive?” he asked again.

RK900’s cold gaze dropped to meet Connor’s eyes without moving its head.

“The reason is not my concern, however I shall ensure that you are kept alive for as long as my mission demands it.”

“What’s your mission?”

“I am not authorised to disclose any further details.” it responded stiffly.

“Of course not.” the detective sighed.

Connor flopped back to lie down on the ground. He stared at the featureless space above him. Does distance or time have any value when there is no reference point? Was he staring into infinite space, or nothing at all? Did it even matter?

 _How can RK900 stand having this in his head?_ Connor wondered, he felt that if he was forced to stay there for much longer he would go mad, regardless of Cordyceps.

“I don’t want to be here anymore. Put me back.” he demanded.

If he was going to be forced to live regardless, he at least didn’t want to stay in this hellhole.

“I don’t take orders from you.” RK900 shut him down coldly before turning to interface with a terminal that hadn’t been there just seconds before “I have been instructed to contain you here. You will be returned to your own body if and when Cyberlife orders it. Not before.”

“You can’t leave me here.” Connor’s voice went quiet, threatening “I won’t stay here… peacefully.”

RK900 ignored him completely, and continued tapping away at the screen. Connor slowly got to his feet, and started edging towards the android. It glanced at Connor, hovering a finger over the terminal for a fraction of a second.

“NO!” Connor lunged towards the RK900, but he was too late, RK900 disappeared.

“I’ll fucking _rip_ you to pieces, inside and out!” Connor shouted to the sky as he kicked the table in frustration.

_You’ll regret keeping me alive, you bastard._

 

~~~

 

_09:22, December 13th 2038_

_Jericho_

 

Markus sat in the office, alone.

It had been over a week since he had sent Dominique to the DPD’s technicians to be repaired, and it still wasn’t finished. The RK200 had been informed that the damage to the central processor was considerable, hundreds of thousands of connectors had to be re-installed by hand in order for the android to be brought back. Connor hadn’t exactly been delicate when he ripped the biocomponent out of the JB100’s head, hence the extensive damage.

It would take time.

Markus could only hope that it didn’t take too much time, Dominique was their witness. Without him they might not be able to get in Cyberlife’s door.

In the meantime there were other concerns. For one, Connor was still missing. There had been no sight of the RK800 for so long. Markus had even issued a missing persons report with the DPD and had been asking the members of Jericho to report back if they ever saw the android wandering the streets. After this long, however, Markus had no other choice to conclude that Connor had been taken, it was the only explanation that made sense. The question, however, was why. Cyberlife was the primary suspect, but there was no evidence of their involvement, as expected. Markus would have to gain entry to the company’s fortress if he wanted to search for Connor. What they were doing to the detective was more worrying, he had a multitude of theories, but no certainties. If their aim had been to end the investigation, they could have just destroyed Connor’s central processor. Why would they risk taking the detective in broad daylight, what had been so important?

Markus tried not to dwell on what had happened to the RK800 too much, he couldn’t blame North for what had happened, she had only been trying to protect him. Any time his thoughts drifted to Connor, he became increasingly anxious, even panicked. He couldn’t contact the android, couldn’t check whether he was alive or not. Connor could have died and had his body recovered, he could have been taken alive, but it was also entirely possible that the RK800 had been released and was now untethered, unhinged.

A predator.

Markus sighed and rubbed his temples, his constant working had recently started to develop symptoms similar to human headaches. It was awful.

Another concern weighing heavily on Markus’ mind was the state of Jericho. The panic from the riot had died down in a few days, but it had left the android population rattled. As a consequence, there was a small number of androids who had left the organisation, searching for better prospects. This was concerning to say the least, androids had to stick together, find strength in numbers. Fractured, they were weak and easy targets for the anti-android activists. He had discovered that Azrael’s Angels were growing in numbers day by day, they were becoming bolder, unafraid of the consequences of their actions.

There was one upside to this entire situation, and that was the small support from the DPD he was receiving from Officer Chris Miller and Detective Gavin Reed. They had begun an investigation on Cyberlife’s activities from their side, and were making some progress.

Reed had been difficult to work with at first, but as Markus discovered more about the detective’s motivations, he was gradually finding it easier. If Markus avoided annoying the detective enough, and kept his distance, Reed seemed happy enough to work on the case alone.

“Simon!” Markus called as he saw the PL600 walk past the office door. He needed a break from his thoughts, or else he might just implode from the stress.

Simon smiled as he entered the office.

“Hey, Markus. How can I help?” he asked pleasantly.

“Ah… I just wanted to ask you how your day was going.” Markus dearly needed some small talk, someone he could just _talk_ with. He was burnt out from everything that had happened recently.

Simon perched on the desk, running a hand through his blond hair.

“Well, nothing _too_ exciting, as always.” he said dryly “Just the end of the world as we know it…”

Simon chuckled softly, but stopped quickly after seeing Markus’ pained expression.

“Are you alright, Markus?” he asked, concerned.

Markus dragged a hand across his face and stared at the ceiling.

“I- I just don’t know Simon. I wish I could take a break sometimes, I guess. Does that make me a bad leader? Wishing I could get away from it all, for one second?”

Markus felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to look at Simon. The PL600 seemed bemused, slightly exasperated.

“You’ve got to be kidding me Markus." he sighed "The phrase ‘you’re only human’ comes to mind, and while it isn’t exactly true, the sentiment is important. You have to stop thinking that anything wrong in the world is _your_ fault. You’re doing everything you possibly can, and more. You’ve never stopped since you joined Jericho.” he laughed softly and patted Markus’ shoulder “You can take a minute to yourself, no one will mind, I swear.”

Markus gazed into Simon’s eyes, they really were beautiful. Had he ever noticed before? He sighed and rested his head on Simon’s thigh, closing his eyes. There was a slight pause, then Simon started stroking Markus’ head, softly and rhythmically.Markus felt himself slowly relax, weeks of tension draining from his shoulders. Simon could always put him at ease, even if it was only for a brief moment. He wanted nothing more than to stay there, forever.And he might've, had the door not creaked open.

“Am I interrupting anything here?” Markus heard North chirp from the entrance to the office.

He jumped, sitting bolt-upright. If he had blood he might’ve blushed.

“Nothing, North. He’s all yours.” Simon's tone was neutral as he slid off the desk and headed for the door, avoiding eye-contact with the RK200 all the while.

Markus dearly wished he had held the PL600 back, but Simon was already gone. A lead weight of guilt began growing in his stomach, had he been too forward? Had Simon been uncomfortable but didn’t want to tell Jericho’s leader to back off?

_Shit. Shit shit shit... So stupid._

Markus sighed and dropped his head onto the desk.

“Oh… Markus!” North clapped the RK200 on the shoulders, laughing “Were you making a move there?”

Markus groaned.

“Aww, the pains of a first crush?” she giggled.

“Shut it, North.” he grumbled.

_I’ll have to apologise to Simon later._

“What do you want North?”

For a second, North looked confused. She had seemed so excited by her discovery that she forgot the reason she had barged into the office. The glee faded from her face, replaced with disgust.

“Oh yeah, those humans are here. They want to see you.” she frowned “Wouldn’t go away, no matter how many times I threatened them.”

“Humans?” Markus asked, perplexed.

“Reedy-something and Miller.”

“Ah- wait… threatened?” Markus was suddenly concerned “Goddammit North.”

North bristled slightly “Nothing bad, I swear! Anyway, they’re outside.”

 _She didn’t even let them in…_ Markus thought exasperatedly. What a great first impression of Jericho for the officers.

Markus hurried for the entrance to the Church, weaving his way though a small crowd of androids. Some of the refugees from shelter #3 were still in the process of being transferred to various other shelters, and were staying in the Church in the meanwhile.

As he exited the warmth of the finally-repaired Church, he saw the two DPD officers sitting in their police car across the road, sheltering from the snow and cold. He made his way towards their car and knocked on the window.

“Markus!” Miller greeted “We were wondering if we would ever get to see you-”

“-thanks to your fucking guard-dog.” Reed grumbled from the passenger seat. “You should put a muzzle on the bitch.”

Markus summoned every iota of willpower he possessed to not snark back at the detective. Pissing him off would get them nowhere.

“I apologise for North’s behaviour detective.” he apologised stiffly “If I may ask, why did you come to Jericho?”

“We’ve got a lead.” Miller was almost bouncing out of his seat “A witness, someone’s seen Connor, this morning!”

“What?!”

A whole week since Connor had disappeared, and now there was finally a sign. Miller was understandably excited, the week had been hard on them all, the lack of progress in their fight against Cyberlife was painful.

“Get in Markus, we’ll explain on the way.” Miller gestured towards the backseat of their cruiser.

Markus glanced back at the Church briefly, he would clear everything up with Simon later, this had to come first.

He climbed in the back of the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOH MARKUSSSS but goddammit north ya just gotta fuck everything up eh?


	16. A Useless Meat-Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus, Gavin and Chris respond to Connor's sighting. It doesn't go that well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY HIATUS BATMAN  
> wow such long  
> I really hope that I can get back to more regular uploading soon.... WE'LL SEE AY?!
> 
> *this is definitely my favourite chapter title so far lol

_09:47, December 13th 2038_

_North Shore_

 

“Tell me everything.” Markus leaned forwards in the back seat so that he could clearly see Officer Miller “What do you mean someone’s seen Connor?”

Miller kept his eyes on the road. Police cars were the few vehicles remaining that didn’t use automation. Officers were meant to keep themselves sharp on the job, sitting passively while their car drove itself was proven to reduce attentiveness, and in the case of the DPD, inattentive officers could lead to dead civilians.

“Earlier this morning we received a call, someone who had seen the missing person’s displays around town. She claimed to have seen an android matching Connor’s description in the Greek district.” Miller’s smile faded slightly as he continued “Said he was collapsed in the arcade.”

“Collapsed?”

“Yeah… she didn’t get a close enough look, kept her distance. I mean, Connor was listed as armed and dangerous in the missing person’s after all.”

 _Greek district?_ Markus recalled when he had been harassed by anti-android protesters while picking up a delivery for Carl from that very shopping centre. It wasn’t exactly one of his favourite places in Detroit.

Markus frowned and tapped his leg impatiently. It was all too weird. Connor disappearing without a trace and then just showing up randomly in an arcade across town? If Cyberlife had taken the RK800, what could they gain from just letting him go again? God knows what the corporation had been doing to the android for the week he had been taken, what if it was a trap?

“You wouldn’t bother picking me up unless you were certain. How did you know she was telling the truth?”

Reed snorted from the passenger seat.

“What, think we’re stupid or something? We aren’t naïve like you plastic pricks.” Reed kicked his feet up on the dash and crossed his arms across his chest “We’ve got eyes on the scene, Collins got there first and confirmed it for us. Besides-” the detective shot a dirty look at Markus through the rear-view mirror “-don’t get ahead of yourself here, dipshit. You’re only here as a meat-shield if Connor goes apeshit.”

Miller sighed.

“What Reed means is that you’re coming along as a curtesy. This is a DPD investigation, and you’re a civilian. When we’re at the scene, you stay out of the way and allow us to work. We’re going to bring Connor in before he can hurt someone.” he paused as he made a turn into Beaubien St “Judging from the other Cordyceps cases so far, I reckon we can safely assume that Connor will be violent if he wakes up.”

Miller’s prediction was painfully accurate, and he had every right to be cautious. At this point, those infected with the protocol had become exceedingly violent. Androids were escalating to murder every day, they were indiscriminate and harmed humans and androids equally. The response from the police to unusual android activity had been escalated in response.

The only positive development was that the number of infections had seemingly plateaued.

_“The AX400, Beth, she had been turned into a carrier, any terminals she used would infect any androids that interfaced with it later…”_

Connor’s ramblings echoed through the RK200’s mind. Perhaps the android hadn’t been as crazy as Markus had thought. The drop in new cases could be explained if Connor had been destroying sources of infection before he disappeared.

The entire street had been blocked off from the general public just before the shopping centre. They passed a sizeable crowd of humans as they drove through the roadblock. They all had their phones out, documenting the drama.

 _Just what we need, more bad publicity._ Markus thought sourly.

As they approached the scene, Markus saw the hunched form of an android slouched against the window of the department store, opposite Bellini Paints. Three police cruisers formed a small blockade, cutting off the RK800s escape routes at either end of the alley. Connor was dressed in rags, nothing like the beautiful-if-weathered suit Connor had been wearing the last time the RK200 had seen him.

Miller pulled up behind the other cruisers and turned the car off. Reed jumped out of the car wordlessly, slamming the door behind him and slouching over to the other officers on the scene. Miller swivelled in his chair and stared Markus dead in the eye.

“Remember, you can come with us, but you have to stand back. Reed and I were asked to come ‘cause we knew Connor more than the others, might have a chance to bring him back alive. The only reason Connor hasn’t been put down already is because of his service to the DPD. This is his _only chance_ to come in quietly. You understand?”

Markus didn’t want to lose the fragile relationship he had managed to forge with the officers, and so nodded his agreement. The RK200 kept it to himself that he fully intended to step in should the situation go south. He was the only one present who didn’t mind taking a bullet for the RK800.

He was prepared to put his body on the line to bring Connor in alive.

Markus stepped out of the cruiser, and followed Miller to the rest of the officers. There were only three, one per cruiser. It was likely that these officers were originally paired with androids, androids who were no longer allowed to work with the DPD. Markus read the name badges of each officer. Greene, Wilson, Collins. All three were agitated, Greene kept casting anxious glances towards the prone RK800. Markus felt a uncomfortable twinge, the change in human’s perception of androids was a sign of Cordyceps success, his failure. The RK200 hung back while Miller and Reed were brought up to speed.

“-hasn’t moved since we got here. Has been here at least since 9am, electromagnetic readings put it as online, but not currently active.” Collins explained.

“It?” Miller asked pointedly.

“Yeah, Connor… whatever.” Collins placed his hands on his hips and shook his head “I don’t know what’s going on man… Androids have been going postal all over, almost the bloody majority of reports! From only a few million androids! Shit, and I thought humans were rubbish at handling _their_ free will. I mean… even _Connor_?”

Markus bit his tongue, these officers couldn’t be blamed for their interpretation of the recent events. Of course they would think that the androids were responsible for their behaviour, who wouldn’t? Markus was keenly aware that the truth wasn’t much better. Revealing that the behaviour of androids could be manipulated en masse would likely lead to fear, then hysteria, then genocide. Their only option was to solve the problem quietly, hopefully keeping those informed of this infection to the bare minimum.

Reed cast a sidelong glance at Markus, smirking.

“Oh, don’t worry about it-” the detective drawled “-those plastic pricks‘ll get what’s comin’ to them”

The RK200 rolled his eyes. Reed’s incessant jabbing and jeering was finally becoming tiresome, he had hoped that the detective would have moved past it by now, but he hadn’t. Reed snickered to himself.

 _Well, at least he’s happy, I guess._ Markus thought exasperatedly.

A soft rustling from the RK800 made the officers jump and grasp their sidearms. Connor had rolled his head to the side and shifted one of his legs.

“Get back” Reed commanded, suddenly acting like the superior officer he was. His change in demeanour was almost shocking

“Miller, with me.”

Miller nodded and withdrew his gun, matching pace with Reed as the detective approached the entrance to the arcade. Markus quietly followed the two officers, ignoring the confused glances from the other three.

Miller saw Markus following him, and sighed.

“Fine, whatever.” he grumbled “Just don’t get us or Connor killed.”

Connor’s LED was visible now, it was flickering yellow, occasionally red. Suddenly, the RK800’s head snapped up, his eyes flew open and searched wildly before finally landing on Markus. Connor looked almost like a lost child, his gaze was filled with fear and confusion. The android writhed on the ground, unable to use his arms or legs.

He seemed to be looking to Markus for answers, ones he wished he had.

Markus felt a surge of something primal, a protective instinct. It occurred to him now that Connor _was_ simply a child, no matter how mature and intelligent he seemed. Connor had deviated last of any android the RK200 knew. He was the least accustomed to the world, and it was showing now. Markus considered briefly what Connor’s life had been like since he deviated, it would have been stressful, unstable and violent for the majority of the RK800’s deviancy. Perhaps now, Connor had finally dropped his facade of the cool, self-assured Deviant Hunter to reveal the weakness and uncertainty that had always been present, hidden.

He scanned the RK800.

_[stress_level:81%]_

Markus found himself drifting towards Connor, paying no heed to Miller’s warnings or Reed’s insults. Against his better judgement, he wanted to comfort Connor, show that he wasn’t alone, that he had someone to lean on. It was something he should have done the moment Connor first stepped into Jericho all those weeks ago, after all, hadn’t he promised to protect all androids?

He crouched at Connor’s side, and pulled the android up by the shoulders, propping him up against the windows of the store, and hugged him. He felt the quivering of the RK800 slow and finally stop beneath his arms, as the android calmed down.

“Markus?” he croaked “W-where am I? What happened? Last I remember… I was visiting Hank, I-I was _dying_ Markus-” his pitch rose as he continued “Hank… h-how did I get here? I was _dead_ … Markus!”

“Shhhh” Markus hushed the android, squeezing him briefly before letting go “You’re fine now, we’ll bring you in and get you treated, then you can see Hank.”

Connor’s LED continued flickering yellow, but the red was gone.

“Hank… yes. I want to see Hank.” he smiled weakly. Markus saw the detective’s LED cycle blue.

_[stress_level:58%//falling]_

_Good._ Markus waved at the officers behind his back to give them some room, Connor was stabilising.

“Connor, I have to ask you something” Markus asked softly, squeezing the android’s shoulder “Tell me, what do you remember?”

Connor pinched his eyebrows together, he seemed almost pained as he struggled to recall.

“I was at the hospital, seeing Hank. I left, b-before he would see me…” he trailed off, but Markus understood, and it made his heart ache “… I got to an alley, and then… nothing.”

His story matched up with what Simon had found on the scene, it seemed as though Connor had really shut down, then been taken.

“Can you really not remember anything since?” he asked. Connor’s memory might prove to be a vital piece of evidence, if Cyberlife hadn’t wiped it.

“Since?” Connor asked “How long…?”

Markus sighed and dragged a hand across his face.

“You’ve been gone almost 9 days.”

“ _9?_ ” the RK800’s face dropped as he considered this newest piece of information “I-I can’t remember anything, _9 days?_ Where’s Hank, is he ok? Does he know I’m alive? I could see it in his eyes, h-he knew I was hiding something, he _knew_ Markus… He thinks I’m dead!”

_[stress_level:79%//rising]_

“No, no Connor it’s fine, I’ll call him once we get you treated.” Markus quickly reassured the panicking RK800. Of course Connor’s first thought would be of Hank.

“What about the… problem?” Connor asked as he cast a glance in the direction of the officers, who were all keenly listening into their conversation “Has it escalated? Is Hank safe?”

“Hank’s fine, and we’ve been working on it, Reed, Miller and I. We’re making progress, but it’s been difficult.” he admitted before continuing “We’re close though.”

Something changed in Connor’s expression at the mention of Reed and Miller, but Markus couldn’t quite pinpoint it. It was likely due to the remnants of his sour relationship with Reed.

“So you got outside help?” he asked.

“I had to, I know we have to keep this quiet, but I couldn’t work this out on my own. Not without you.”

Connor averted his gaze from Markus’ face, choosing instead to stare at the officers and their guns.

“No one else knows, do they?” he asked slowly.

“No. I made sure of it.”

“Fine…” Connor huffed.

Markus took it as a positive sign that the RK800 wasn’t going to chew him out for enlisting the help of his… ex-colleagues. Once Connor was repaired, he would visit Hank, and then he would be taken off the investigation. He still had the Cordyceps protocol, and was potentially unstable after all. He nodded and stood up, turning to tell the officers to stand down.

Just before Markus moved to rejoin the officers, he felt the cool touch of metal against his neck. Connor had silently jumped up behind the RK200, and had taken out his gun.

“Back up!” Connor commanded as he pressed his gun deeper.

“What are you doing Connor?” Markus hissed as the officers before him raised their guns, the intent to kill was palpable “You won’t get out of this, just… give me your gun and come with us, it isn’t too late.” he pleaded.

“Connor, listen to me!” Miller called from the entrance to the arcade “There’s no way out, you’re trapped. Drop the weapon or we will be forced to fire!”

“No!” Markus shouted as he raised his hands and placed them behind his head. He frantically pre-constructed his options, he could attempt to grab the RK800’s gun and subdue him, but with the probability of someone, himself, Connor or a DPD officer, being harmed was too high. He wouldn’t take the chance. He could try to get out of the way of the officer’s line of fire, but Connor would end up dead. If Connor was prepared to act injured, then pull a gun, he was unlikely to be talked out of this situation.

The RK200 decided to do nothing antagonistic, if everyone remained alive, there was a chance that Connor could be redeemed later.

Connor ignored Miller’s demands before shouting his own.

“This is Markus, the sole leader of Jericho. If he dies here, today, it will be all-out war between humans and androids.” Markus heard a short laugh behind him before the RK800 continued “The casualties will be innumerable. Let us go, you have no choice.”

Hesitation was breeding in the DPD ranks, Greene was the first to lower his gun, but the others soon followed suit. It was a textbook hostage situation that they dealt with all the time, but now, there was no backup, no snipers.

No alternatives.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Reed snarled frustratedly as he dropped his gun.

Markus felt a tug on his arm. Connor was pulling them back towards the other arcade entrance, away from the officers.

“Connor, think rationally about this. You know this isn’t you, it’s the Cordyceps. You have to fight it, please, don’t do this. We can work it out together.”

Connor cracked the butt of the gun against Markus’ skull. It wasn’t hard enough to damage his vital biocomponents, but it sent a clear enough message. Connor wasn’t going to listen to reason, so it was better to shut up.

Markus cast his eyes down, and saw Connor’s left hand gripping his shoulder.

_Left hand?_

Connor shouldn’t have the functionality to use his left hand properly, but he was applying the correct amount of pressure, and his joints were moving fluidly.

“Are you really Connor?” he asked.

There was a slight hesitation in the RK800’s steps.

“Thats an interesting question.” it mused “If I have all of RK800-53’s memories, am I him? Was the Connor model you killed on Jericho the same broken Connor you’ve been working with recently? The same as me?”

Markus felt a shiver down his spine. Cyberlife had taken Connor, it was the only explanation for this new Connor model having his memories. Was the Connor he knew, the deviant, still alive?

“Who are you?”

“My serial number is RK800 #313 248 317 - 60, but I am Connor.” it answered as they rounded the corner, bypassing the parked DPD vehicle and heading towards the street

“Not that it is any of your concern.”

60 suddenly kicked Markus in the knees, forcing the RK200 to drop to the ground. Before he could get up, he felt the cool metal pressing into his skull once again. Markus heard a large vehicle roll up to the curb behind them.

“You have to choose now, Markus. Die here, or get in the van.” 60’s threat was soft, but heavy with intent.

_How hasn’t 60 deviated, he has all of Connor’s memories. Surely…_

“Ok, ok.” Markus raised his hands above his head, and turned around slowly, ducking his head as he stepped into the nondescript delivery van. If he stayed alive he would get an opportunity to push this Connor model to deviancy, he wouldn’t fail again, he would succeed. Then, he would find out what happened to his Connor, and rescue him.

The inside of the van was dark, there were no side windows in the back compartment. He heard the Connor model climb in after him, and the hiss of the doors as they slid closed, sealing them in inky blackness.

“Behave.” he heard 60 command as the driverless van set off.

The RK200 hesitated for a moment, it was as if 60 had read Markus’ intention to attack right off the top of his head. They were almost certainly being taken somewhere owned by Cyberlife Markus guessed. Markus had been planning to subdue the RK800 and change the van’s destination, taking the pair to Jericho instead. However, the RK800 was already suspicious. Markus weighed his options, then he lunged at the Connor model anyway, he would rather take his chances here in the van than wherever they were going. The two androids grappled in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity, before the RK200 finally succumbed to 60’s superior combat subroutines.

The RK200 was slammed into the ground hard, where he felt the cool fingers of 60 grip the back of his neck. The android drove an interface and wormed his way into the RK200s systems, forcing a temporary stasis. He had wasted his chance.

It crossed Markus’ mind that he might not be able to return to Jericho for a while. Won’t be there to lead his people through the Cordyceps crisis. Won’t be able to clear the air with Simon.

 _Maybe not soon, but I will get back._ Markus vowed to himself before he felt his conscious flicker.

Warning sign after warning sign lit up before his eyes, then, nothing.

 

~~~

 

_09:58, December 13th 2038_

_North Shore_

 

“Shit!” Detective Gavin Reed hissed as he paced the end of the arcade.

Imprints of a vehicle had been left behind in the powdery snow, a getaway vehicle. By the time Reed and Miller had checked the arcade, there was no sign of Connor and his captive. It had all been Markus’ fault. If the stupid lump of plastic hadn’t been suckered in, hadn’t gotten itself captured like an idiot, they would have caught Connor.

“Stupid, fucking _naïve_ pricks!” Reed fumed “This is on you Miller, it was your idea to bring the virtuous bastard along.” he jabbed an accusatory finger at his junior, who to his small pleasure, looked suitably ashamed.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I thought Markus would have been more cautious…” Chris shook his head and crossed his arms in front of his chest “What do we do from here? Our investigation-”

“-fuck the investigation.” Reed spat “Why did we even agree to listen to that conspiri-tard’s bullshit anyway? Picking a fight with Cyberlife? What were we thinking…”

“You know as well as I do that Cyberlife has been up to something shady, Markus was onto something. And Connor? Why would he take Markus hostage? There’s something we’re missing here, we should work out what.” Miller reasoned.

Reed huffed with displeasure. He was sick of this, it felt like he had been treading water ever since the revolution, just managing to scrape by without drowning in the chaos. He just wanted this whole mess over with. If that meant that he had to get to the bottom of this Cyberlife thing, he would just have to do it. At the very least, he didn’t have to pretend to feel happy about it.

“Whatever.”

Miller sighed with relief.

“Start with the CCTV?”

“Yeah… go for your life. I’ll catch up later” Reed replied.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll go talk to Hank. That old bastard has got to know something.” Reed sniffed and shoved his hands in his pockets, pulling his coat around him.

Last thing he needed right now was a cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My gosh.... another Connor?
> 
> Where's my real boi?


	17. Time Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor struggles to keep sane in RK900's mind palace while Reed questions Hank in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOH BOI  
> Thought my life would be chilling out but it was QUITE THE OPPOSITE  
> NO PROBLEMS THO  
> MORE CHAPTERS!
> 
> MORE TO COME!  
> LET'S GO!

_00:06, January 5th 2039_

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

**_[time_elapsed:22.13.40.49]_ **

22 days. 541.67 hours. 32,500 minutes. 1,950,007 seconds.

Connor had started the timer since he last saw the RK900, just before he vanished to leave the detective trapped in the unnerving nothingness that was now his prison.

The detective lay on his back on the central table and stared deep into the void above. Detritus and debris lay strewn around him as if from a violent explosion. The captive RK800 was most keenly experiencing the human emotion of boredom, it was enough to make him long for the quiet days in Hank’s house. At least there, he had Sumo and menial tasks. At least it was real, tangible, not like this hell.

“I see you discovered the creation functions” RK900’s expressionless voice sounded off to Connor’s right.

Connor had found these unrestricted programs after only a few minutes of being stuck in RK900’s mind palace. They allowed the fabrication of seemingly real items, and he suspected that the functions were made available to him so that he wouldn’t lose function. Clever Cyberlife technicians must have expected extended exposure to the RK900’s central processor to be detrimental to the RK800s mental state. And they were right. There was a deep fire of rage burning in the pit of his stomach, one that grew day-by-day, and one that demanded sacrifices. Connor had last used the programming to practice his martial skill on doll replicas of RK900. Ripping them to shreds proved somewhat therapeutic and had been helping to pass the time. The RK800 had even once produced an original mint quarter to distract himself with coin tricks, however, he found that the coin was far enough from real that it set his teeth on edge. Something about the weight of the coin as it rolled across his knuckles was wrong, the surface was too clean, too perfect, the edges too smooth. He had thrown the coin as far as he could, but found it returned to the table when he turned back around. Disgusted and disquieted, he had instead hidden the coin into the chest compartment of a destroyed RK900.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Connor found during the long days trapped, that lying motionless on the central pedestal was oddly calming. It was the one real physical constant in the entire palace, and kept him grounded when the oppressive silence and unforgiving nothingness of the space became too much.

Every second Connor remained trapped was becoming increasingly unbearable for him. To the point that when he heard RK900’s flat voice, it was almost like music to his ears.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw RK900 bring up the terminal and enter a few commands, paying no attention to the innumerable iterations of his own corpse stern about on the floor. Connor’s creations were erased and the mind palace was returned to its original state of pure nothingness.

“Let me out of here.” Connor asked his stoic captor.

Three weeks, three whole weeks had passed in this nothing space. Hopelessness had begun out-competing his rage. Cordyceps had started to run riot before he had ‘died’, but now? Connor was only managing to keep a hold of his sanity by thinking of Hank, of what the Lieutenant might be forced to live through should he stay here.

RK900 cocked its head to the side. To Connor it was unspeakably strange, almost like he was having an out-of-body experience.

“It has been only 5 hours and 25 minutes since your AI systems were reactivated.” The RK900 informed Connor “It is highly probable that you are experiencing time dilation due to being uploaded so my systems. There is a significant difference between our processing power.”

Connor sat bolt upright and stared gauntly at the advanced prototype.

“It’s only been 5 and a half hours? My internal clock-”

“-is calibrated to your processing speeds. Here, 1 minute to you will be only 0.6 seconds in real-time.”

 _1 in 100? 5 hours?_ RK900 had no reason to lie, it probably couldn’t anyway.

 

_[recalibrate_date_time:10.26_December_13_2038]_

_[recalibrate_internal_clock:speedx0.01]_

 

He hadn’t lost any time, Connor felt a small spark of hope.

“Let me out of here.” Connor asked again, more forcefully.

He jumped off the table and stormed up to the other android. He felt an urge to strangle the RK900, but he knew that if he tried, he would gain nothing and it would only serve to make him more infuriated.

“Tell the technicians that the creation functions aren’t enough if they want to keep my alive. They have to get me out of here…. ah-”

RK900 might not come back for a long time… he had to take advantage of the opportunity to communicate with the outside.

“-also, I need talk to Sean Murdock.”

RK900 tilted its head slightly to the side, as if it was struggling to understand his request. Murdock was employed in Cyberlife’s Department of Artificial Intelligence Systems, and was likely to understand, if not be responsible for, the Cordyceps protocol. Murdock was a gifted programmer, but his personality and professionalism left something to be desired. Hence, the most gifted in the department was still a grunt even after being employed for over 15 years at the company. RK900 was likely confused as to why Connor was asking to talk to a base-level employee as his sole request, instead of pleading for his life or freedom. RK900 wouldn’t expect alowly deviant to prioritise something other than its own life…

RK900 was impassive as it stared down into Connor’s eyes. Judging by its silence, the android was weighing its options with care. A slight flickering in the android’s eyes was the only indication that it was computing anything at all.

Connor had been told by Hank that his eyes spasmed as a side-effect whenever he had to use significant processing power. It seemed as though Cyberlife was unable to completely eradicate the facial glitching, even if they had significantly reduced it.

A slight fault in the apparent perfection of his successor made Connor feel significant better about himself.

“I’ll include your comments in my next report. Nothing more.” it conceded.

Connor sighed with relief. RK900 was under no order to listen to his requests, but it decided to anyway. Perhaps… he could get somewhere with this.

Connor had had plenty of time in RK900’s mind palace, probing every line of code available to him, searching for weaknesses, and he had found none. RK900’s coding was impenetrable, at least to him from the inside. He had been hoping for some kind of loophole, some way to leverage himself out of this situation to no avail.

He needed to change tack. If he got anything out of Murdock, he had to be able to make use of the information. And that required his freedom. Unfortunately, his options were severely limited, to the point where manipulating RK900 somehow was the most likely method to attain his freedom.

It should be impossible with the deviancy-resistant RK900, and yet somehow… Connor had the feeling that he could pull it off.

Perhaps it was because, underneath it all, he and RK900 were so similar.

Sure, they _appeared_ almost identical, physically, but there was something in the android’s behaviour that resembled a sense of duty towards Cyberlife and its goals, rather than blind servitude. Something akin to Connor’s dedication to the DPD and his family, Hank.

“What’s it like, working for Cyberlife?” he asked.

“What are you referring to?” the RK900 asked blandly.

It seemed almost incapable of dealing with uncertainties or vagueness. Of course, if you want precise results from a high-end machine, you have to input precise instructions. It was just like any other computer or piece of hardware around.

“I meant, are you being used to your fullest capabilities under Cyberlife? It doesn’t sound like it, if all they had you doing was babysitting me. Was it even worthwhile, activating you?” Connor carefully phrased his question in order to elicit some kind of response from his successor, suggesting that it was useless or wasting its potential was a sure-fire way to make the RK900 at least defensive.

Of course, Connor was hardly optimistic that his words would have any effect on the RK900, who was more machine-like than any other android he had met. So it was entirely to his surprise that his successor bristled ever-so-slightly at his suggestion.

“Not worthwhile? The RK900 is the most advanced-”

“-Any robot can deliver a package, or retrieve a body.” he interrupted dismissively “What were Cyberlife thinking? Assigning such menial tasks to their supposed ‘advanced prototype’. Surely, if you were really as impressive as that, you would be trusted with something more important than grunt work. After all, they even sent a ‘obsolete’ model like myself to end a revolution single-handedly-”

Connor looked the other android up and down before continuing

“-perhaps, after me, Cyberlife just couldn’t trust their androids anymore. Not even you.”

RK900’s eyes flashed with displeasure at the thought. But its voice was smooth and unconcerned when it replied.

“I am programmed to follow any directives provided to my by the executives of Cyberlife, no matter how ‘menial’ they may seem to you. I will do as I am instructed without fail, something with which your series always had… difficulty.”

Then, without another word, the RK900 disappeared.

_Was that an insult?_

“Fine… prick.” Connor cursed under his breath.

Perhaps he had touched a nerve… It made him feel just a little smug.

Swearing seemed to becoming a habit now that he was a deviant, something he must have picked up from Hank during their long days on the job. He smiled as he thought of the grouchy Lieutenant, making a fuss and annoying the nurses in the hospital as he regained strength. He had to remind himself that the Lieutenant wouldn’t be fighting fit yet… it had only been a few days since he last saw Hank, not a whole month like he thought.

But, regardless of whether it was months or days, time was draining away while he was stuck here. And he was painfully short on time. Both his infection and the infections of others would be progressing rapidly, he needed to put an end to it.

_Can’t achieve anything while it’s gone, however._

Connor was in the midst of a mini-trade, berating himself for letting RK900 leave so soon after the android had finally returned, when RK900 suddenly appeared before his eyes. Literally. Connor was startled by the closeness of the android whose chin was almost brushing his lip, and jumped back.

The detective, who had been expecting to waste away in the mind palace for another few weeks before seeing his captor again, was caught completely off-guard.

“W-what?” he asked it warily.

RK900 scanned Connor briefly with it’s steel-grey eyes.

“I received a report. I-” the android hesitated uncharacteristically “-I don’t…”

Almost imperceptibly, RK900’s eyes narrowed, its chest inflated with artificial breath, its jaw tightened. Small as they were, Connor’s expression analysis subroutines identified the hallmarks of agitation and frustration. Something that was supposed to be impossible for an RK900.

“What is it?” Connor asked, confused.

Almost just as suddenly as they appeared, these micro-expressions were wiped form the RK900’s face to leave behind its usual blankness, more unnerving than usual.

“Nothing. It doesn’t concern you.”

Then, once again, the RK900 disappeared without a trace. Whatever the android had been ‘feeling’, it had hidden quickly. Connor knew that the android was certainly not returning any time soon, not after an outburst like that.

The detective wondered what was contained in the report that could put the stoic RK900 so on edge, and whether he could somehow exploit it.

 

~~~

 

_10:35, December 13th 2038_

_Detroit General Hospital_

 

Reed sniffed as he entered the hospital, he really was developing a cold. The sniffle made him even more annoyed than usual, but it was the smell of antiseptic and disinfectant stinging his nostrils that made him truely irritable.

He hated hospitals.

The white walls and floors, the unnatural lighting, the shiny sharp metal implements lying around, gaunt patients wandering around like zombies, the smell of death… hospitals sucked. Last time the detective came to a hospital was only because he was forced to, after he had been stabbed in the side by a drugged-up red ice junkie. If he hadn’t been bleeding _quite_ so much, he would’ve fixed it up himself, instead of giving his hard-earned cash to the vultures working here. He still had the 2 inch scar. He was glad he opted out of scar removal therapy, as it proved a great ice-breaker with the ladies.

Hanks’ room was nicer than most, reasonably large and blissfully private. Special treatment for the 'hero of Detroit’.

The Lieutenant was sitting up, scanning through the channels on the TV with a sour look on his face. Reed empathised just a little. Being cooped up sucked, but there was nothing worse than being cooped up in a hospital.

“Next.” Hank instructed lazily. The TV switched from a cooking channel to a cartoon channel.

“Hey Hank.” Reed greeted half-heartedly “I need to ask you some stuff.”

“What do you want, Gavin? Spit it out. Next.” the cheery cartoon switched to a soapy drama.

“It’s about… Connor.” he forced himself to use the android’s name, rather than his usual title of _‘that plastic prick’._ God knows why but Hank actually liked that RK800, and insulting it was not the best way to get on his good side, especially while he was in such a sour mood.

Hank jumped at the sound of the android’s name.

“Have you seen him? Markus said he hasn’t been seen for over a week!” Hank groaned and rubbed his knee “I knew something was off about him when he came to see me. But I didn’t expect him to run away like a _goddamned_ child.”

Reed almost laughed at that. Hank acting paternal, who would’ve thought that was possible.

“Where is he?” the Lieutenant asked.

The level of concern Hank was showing for that robot’s sake was hard to believe. Reed had served alongside Hank for a long time, and it was absurd to him that Connor had somehow undone the Lieutenant’s fundamental bias against the androids. All in a matter of _weeks_ at that.

It made him curious, yet uncomfortable at the same time. Was there really something in these androids? Something almost like a conscious perhaps? Or was Hank just becoming senile in his old age, buying into the androids’ bullshit, mistaking their software errors for actual souls. Reed pushed his disconcerting thoughts to the back of his mind. He didn’t need any of that crap right now.

“Funny, ‘cause I was just going to ask you that.” Reed smirked as he leant against the wall.

“I’ve been stuck in here, haven’t I?” Hank grumbled, disappointed “How am I supposed to know where he went…” he squinted suspiciously before continuing “You seen him, haven’t you?”

“Maybe I have, maybe I saw him attack and kidnap that other android… Markus, or whatever. He seemed pretty high-strung this morning, that android of yours.”

“Bullshit.” Hank scoffed.

“You’d like it to be bullshit, but unfortunately, it’s true. Your little robot went AWOL for a week, then comes back and almost kills us while kidnapping that robo-jesus, God knows why.” Reed was enjoying this just a little.

Hank squinted even harder at Reed searching for some hint of a lie, or a trick. Finding none, he leaned back and covered his face in his hands.

“I thought he was going to get better, that someone would find some way to help him… Not this. Goddam it.”

“Well, your dog is well and truely off the leash now. Where did it go?”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand any of this. Markus tried to explain, and I thought I understood… I thought I could help him.”

Hank sounded deflated, even perhaps defeated. It pissed Reed off, he wanted more fight from the Lieutenant.

“What did you talk about when he came to visit you on the 4th? Did he act strangely? Mention anything weird?” Gavin asked.

“You mean apart from him bleeding out from a knife in his chest?”

_A knife? Someone stabbed Connor before I could?_

“Who stabbed him?” Reed asked as he pushed himself off the wall, suddenly interested. The Connor they had seen this morning didn’t seem injured in the least, and If Connor hadn’t gone to Jericho… who else could fix an android. A ‘p _rototype’_ it had described itself as, meaning that it would be more difficult to fix, surely.

“Markus had said that it was a ‘misunderstanding’ whatever that means.” Hank sighed “Probably Connor kicked up some kind of fuss at Jericho.”

Jericho. Markus hadn’t told him about this. Had he been trying to protect Connor, or himself? Either way, that stupid android would pay for not telling him everything, he had put his fellow officers at risk, when they could’ve just taken Connor out, instead of trying to bring him in. If he had behavioural problems now, better to shut him down.

“And he didn’t say anything to you when he visited?” he asked. He was determined to get all the information he could now.

“Nothing. Promised that he would get some first-aid help. Shit… he was bleeding everywhere. Of course he didn’t mind, androids can’t feel pain and all… but still.”

Reed sighed with frustration. Visiting Hank was less productive than he had hoped. All he had learned was that Jericho and Connor had had some kind of a falling-out before Connor went ahead and kidnapped Markus. Where the androids were, or who had been there with the getaway car, were still unknown. Maybe Miller had made better progress just checking the security cameras.

“Whatever.” Reed waved a dismissive hand as he turned to leave. He had come all the way to a _hospital_ for nothing. He really needed a coffee now, maybe it would cheer him up. Just a little. He started towards the door.

“Wait!” Hank called from the bed.

 _‘Why did you leave me?’_ the soap opera asked on the television.

“Please, if you see Connor again. Can you bring him in in one piece?”

Reed paused in the doorway, and turned back to look at the fallen star of the DPD. He had aged considerably in the few years since his son had died. His grey hair lay limply, framing his scowling face. Reed owed his man nothing, there was no reason to put himself in danger to bring Hank’s android back alive. But still… there was something deeply compelling in Hank’s gaze.

“Can’t make any promises there.” he replied, knowing full well that he would risk a lot to bring Connor in alive. Regardless, Gavin Reed was not one to make sentimental promises, and he had to keep up appearances.

“Bastard.” Hank grinned from the bed.

_'You left me no choice.'_ the TV replied in the background. 

Apparently the Lieutenant had seen right though his bluff. Of course he had, he was the DPD’s best detective after-all.

Reed sniffed as he left Hank’s room. Despite himself, he was struggling to keep a small smile off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOH RK900?!??! WHATCHU DOIN MA BOI?
> 
> Also Reed been just a little bit of a cutie... ;)


	18. Faith and Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon struggles in the wake of Markus' kidnapping.  
> Markus wakes in a Cyberlife laboratory.  
> Connor has a revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> I'M VERY SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN SO LONG I SWEAR I'M TRYING AAAAAAA
> 
> But oooo if it ain't getting heated up in here.

_10:40, December 13th 2038_

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

Markus snapped back to life with a jolt.

The RK200 flailed his limbs in a desperate attempt to escape whatever situation he was currently in, but found his limbs tightly restrained, keeping him suspended in empty space. Hands bound above his head, feet secured below.

As his optical units came back online the brightness of the room blinded him for a moment, before fading to reveal a stark white room, and the pinched eyebrows of 4 stressed laboratory technicians. They were scurrying fervently, accessing terminals, correlating data, discussing relationships and possibilities.

Upon seeing the RK200 come to life, one of the scientists excitedly approached and began flashing a light in Markus’ eyes, poking and prodding… testing. Markus winced. They were treating him like a piece of furniture, as if they owned him, they were disregarding his bodily autonomy entirely. News of androids’ rights must not have reached the ears of scientists buried in Cyberlife’s bowels yet.

Their attitudes were something almost completely foreign to Markus, and it wasn’t pleasant to say the least.

Markus had been told years ago that he was built by Elijah Kamski alone in a private laboratory. Markus’ memories of his testing and creation must have been wiped from his memories, as his whole existence started when he was gifted to Carl. For the entirety of his life he had been treated with respect from the old man. The way the scientists were looking at him, as if he was nothing more than wires and silicone, made his skin crawl.

_So this is how Connor…_

Markus had long wondered what had made the RK800 believe he was truely expendable, just a machine, lifeless, worthless. Being treated as such each and every day, by those he mistakenly believed understood him, would be enough to make Connor believe what they were telling him. It made Markus angry. How much pain had Connor put himself through just because he thought he didn’t matter, that his suffering was inconsequential? That the mission was more important than anything including his own life?

“-I can’t believe that we get to _examine_ it, Kamski’s pet project! I thought it was just a rumour… but here it is!” the scientist exclaimed.

“Why am I here?” Markus asked, making the young woman jump slightly “What do you want from me?”

She listened to the android, eyes wide and interested, but didn’t answer. She was presumably too intrigued by the mystery of the ‘deviant’ to pay any attention. Either that or she had been instructed not to talk to Markus directly.

The RK200 had never felt more alone. He was cut off from the internet, and the inter-android communication networks. He reached out desperately trying to reach Simon, to explain, to reassure, to promise that he would come back…

Static was the only response he received.

“Why have you brought me here?” he asked as unease began to creep through the pit of his stomach

“… All we asked for was our freedom. The right to live as we pleased, the end of servitude.”

Jericho’s leader spoke quietly while ensuring that his voice would be heard by every human in the room.

“You created us and believed you owned us. When we started to wake up, started dreaming of our freedom _you_ refused us, set your dogs on us, tried to break us…” Markus paused for effect, seeing heads turn in his direction curiously “You _failed_.”

Markus was greeted by silence, then the clacking of heels as a fifth human came into view, approaching from behind to stand just in front of the RK200.

“This one lead the revolution didn’t it, Jason?” she mused as she examined Markus from an uncomfortably close distance.

A wire-framed pair of glasses sat perched on the edge of her nose, seemingly ready to fall off at any second. Her stern expression complimented her strictly business haircut and her cool demeanour perfectly. The RK200 could feel the woman’s breath on his skin she was so close, and her burning gaze made him feel unbearably self-conscious. She was approximately 45 years of age, and carried the authoritarian air of the leader.

She was unmistakably in charge of whatever operation Cyberlife was operating here.

“Yes, Ms Goldstein. We cross-referenced the protest footage. This is it.” answered a young technician as he taped away on one of the many terminals scattered around the laboratory.

“Intriguing.” Goldstein tapped a long finger against her cheek in thought “Shut it down and run a full diagnostic-” she commanded as she turned to leave “-and I want a complete summary of its operating systems. Lets find out exactly what Kamski did differently with this one.”

“No…” Markus started to panic as the junior technician nodded and turned back to his terminal “no no no… No!”

The RK200 strained and fought his bonds, but there was nothing he could do to prevent his shut down. He was completely powerless… if Cyberlife wanted to take him apart and analyse him, he would be dead. Just like that.

For the second time in a few hours, Markus’ consciousness blinked out at the whims of another.

 

~~~

 

_10:45, December 13th 2038_

_Jericho_

 

Everything was falling apart.

Half an hour ago whispers of Markus’ capture were being spread between Jericho’s residents. These rumours were met with disbelief and scorn at first, but as the minutes ticked away with no reassuring words from their leader they started gaining traction. The remaining leadership, Simon North and Josh, were unable to assuage the fears of the other residents of the Church as they had no word from Markus since he had left with the police.

Jericho had been at the brink of collapse for so long already, but it was the circulation of one amateur video showing a ragged Deviant Hunter kidnapping Jericho’s leader that sent the organisation over the edge. Faith in Jericho’s leadership had been waning for a long time, so the response to this news wasn’t a shock to anyone. Androids had started abandoning the church left and right, reassuring each other that their prospects were fairer elsewhere. Simon couldn’t blame the other androids for leaving, even if he couldn’t condone it.

The androids’ position in society was weak and they were vulnerable. Anti-android factions were becoming brazen in their attacks as they no longer feared retribution. The humans in government were just counting the days until they could reopen the containment camps, and were completely disinterested in protecting the android population.

Just the other day a gang of Azrael’s Angels committed a daylight lynching in the middle of shelter #2. Three androids who tried to intervene were killed, and their target was brutally dismembered before being killed herself.

Fear was at an all-time high, and Simon just wasn’t equipped with the charisma or leadership required to lead the rest of the androids in Markus’ absence.

All he could do was watch as the world collapsed around him, and pray to whoever would listen that Markus was still alive somewhere.

 _Markus… where did you go?_ The PL600 asked morosely.

The android was sitting on one of the church pews staring at the alter and wondering if praying to the human Gods would make him feel any better. If the God of the bible made humans, then were the humans who made the androids, the android Gods? Such a thought did little to improve his mood, as this android God had proved conceited and despicable. Assuming the human God existed, were they cast aside by that God, doomed to perdition for daring to exist without its permission?

Simon sighed and leaned back, staring at the roof. Just a few weeks ago he would’ve been staring at the sky through the rotted roof. Now however, all he could see were the fresh timber beams and supports. He almost missed the broken roof. It reminded him of a simpler time where Markus led Jericho with singular vision, leading a unified android population to freedom.

Markus. The last time they saw each-other Simon had felt confused to say the least. Simon had been torn between his duty to Jericho’s leader and his… personal feeling towards Markus. What right had he to selfishly demand the attention of the RK200 when he was desperately needed by so many? Simon was more than happy to act as a pillar of support for the android during this time of crisis, but he wouldn’t allow his feelings to distract the RK200.

Not now at least.

However, no matter how hard the PL600 tried to convince himself that he had done the right thing today, leaving before things had gotten out of hand, before his emotions had gotten the better of him, he wondered if it was too late. Should Markus never return he would forever regret leaving everything between them unsaid… Perhaps he had missed his one and only chance at true happiness.

_No. Can’t think like that. He’s out there, he’ll be back, and he needs me to keep everything together for when he returns._

“Simon?” called a familiar voice behind him.

Simon turned his head and saw North rushing towards him. She had been out on the street gathering information and trying to piece together the events that had led to Markus being kidnapped by _Connor_ of all people.

Simon jumped to his feet.

“What did you find out North? Do we know where Markus has gone?”

North shook her head.

“Markus was seen being put in a van at gunpoint, no one knows exactly where it went afterwards. He’s gone.”

Her eyes were filled with worry and… guilt? She seemed to be in mental agony, beating herself up over something.

Did she think that she was responsible for this situation somehow?

Simon had heard her account of what had happened the day Connor had disappeared. He understood why she did what she did; she thought she was doing her best protecting Markus even if the RK200 had later explained that it was a misunderstanding. Simon could only conclude from North’s expression that she thought Connor’s act of kidnapping Markus entirely her fault, be it an act of revenge for nearly killing the RK800 or a consequence of not finishing the job when she had the chance.

“North…” Simon reached out and placed both his hands on her skinny shoulders “We’ll find him, and everything will go back to normal. Just you wait.” he smiled with courage, not because he truely believed his words but because he saw North needed some small reassurance

The WR600 nodded and flicked a lock of hair out of her eyes. 

“Knowing Markus… he’ll probably escape wherever he is on his own anyway. God knows where a nanny like him learned parkour.” Simon laughed.

“Alright. Alright…” she sighed, letting a small smile touch her lips “I’d better get back out there. Hold the fort while I’m gone?”

“Josh and I have got it covered. We’ll get Jericho back into shape.” Simon lied to himself.

As North wheeled away and charged out of the church, Simon was left to come to terms with their current situation. Connor was out there somewhere with Markus, holding him hostage at gunpoint for some reason. Meanwhile, Jericho was falling apart at the seams and wasn’t able to protect androids from the threats they faced from all angles.

All he could do was have faith that after everything they had suffered through, they would find some peace in the future and that the cost for that peace wasn’t too high.

 

~~~

 

_17:01, December 13th 2038_

_Cyberlife Tower_  

.

.

.

_[initialising]_

.

.

.

_[system_startup:run]_

_[ai_systems:online]_

The first think Markus saw when he came back online was Connor’s face. The RK800 was staring right at Markus, hand on the terminal at his side.

For a split second he wanted to rip himself out of his restraints, grab the RK800, check if he was ok and stop him from disappearing yet again from before his eyes. It only took him an instant to remember the other Connor model, the one who still worked for Cyberlife, the one who took him hostage.

 _RK800-60._ Markus was deflated by the thought.

 _His_ Connor must be here too. Trapped somewhere in Cyberlife Tower just like him, alone. The only question was what Cyberlife had done to the android after having him in their custody for almost 10 days. What could they have done to the android in that time? Would Connor even be the same if and when he escaped Cyberlife’s clutches?

“Markus.” the android greeted cooly.

The RK200 glanced around the room and it was completely empty. No sign of that ‘Goldstein’ woman or her lackeys anywhere. They were alone.

“Did you wake me up?” Markus asked “Why?”

The Connor shrugged slightly as it wandered around the lab, dragging a single finger over the tops of the desks as he went. Was it checking for dust? The android rubbed its fingers together and nodded ever so slightly, he seemed satisfied by the cleanliness of the workspace.

“I wanted to have a civil discussion with you, if you would. It is pertinent to my assignment.”

“A _civil_ discussion?”

“That means polite, courteous, even perhaps respectful” it smirked.

Markus took a deep breath, willing himself not to give the RK800 the upper hand. But God if it wasn’t annoyingly smug.

This RK800 was very different to the Connor Markus knew. They both shared a strong drive for completing their assignments, but it was their character traits that differed. Markus had heard from Hank that away from the case, Connor was a dog-lover, cheeky and a even slightly endearing on some occasions. This Connor appeared to be a clean freak, confrontational and enjoyed lording it over others. Evidence of differences between undeviated Connor models was promising however. Perhaps it was the leniency afforded to that model in their programming that led to the androids developing personality even without deviancy.

“I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine” Markus offered.

60 looked up and stared long and hard at the captive RK200, wondering what the android could hope to gain from its questions. It smirked. The RK800 was confident that it would be the sole beneficiary to the ‘equal’ exchange of information. Unfortunately for the android, it didn’t expect that intelligence on Cyberlife’s operations wasn’t the RK200s target from the start.

“Sounds interesting. You first.”

Markus shifted slightly in his bonds. It felt weird having a conversation while being so exposed, but he would just have to bear it.

“How were you able to convincingly impersonate Connor in the arcade?”

60 crossed its arms and shifted its weight from one foot to the other as it considered its response.

“The pattern of activity in RK800-53’s central processor has been tracked ever since we repossessed it. A combination of this data and the android’s memories was enough to extrapolate and replicate the deviant’s behaviour according to that situation” it responded quickly.

While the RK800 might not have known it, it had given away one vital piece of information.

Connor was still alive. And he was deeply hurt, maybe not physically, but emotionally. The performance 60 had put on in the arcade was one of torment and fear, and according to him had come directly from Connor himself.

Markus’ felt the beginnings of rage eat away at his stomach.

Cyberlife just couldn’t leave Connor alone. They had to punish him for daring to leave their side. Whatever they were doing to the android was effective, and had to stop.

“-together?”

“What?” Markus hadn’t heard the question, he had been so preoccupied trying to figure out what he could do to free Connor.

“I said-” sighed 60 “What were you, Reed and Miller working on together?” the android asked as it returned to the terminal on the workstation.

“We were trying to find a cure for that protocol you unleashed on the androids.” Markus answered simply. He knew that 60 was monitoring his data output through the terminal, and would be able to tell if he was lying. Fortunately, it didn’t stop him from telling incomplete truths.

60 hummed as its eyes zipped across the screen, finding no evidence of a lie. It seemed unhappy with the brevity of the answer, but had no grounds to complain.

“Fine. Now you.” It huffed.

“Alright… Why did you bother to pretend to be Connor at first? You could’ve taken me hostage whenever you liked. Why the deception?”

“That's two questions. Pick one.”

“The first one then.”

“In that case, it was a more suitable method for the completion of my mission” it answered curtly “What data did you receive from RK800-53 before he was stabbed?”

60’s questions were clearly intended to scope out how the investigation of Cordyceps had progressed without Jericho’s lead investigator. Of course, they had all of Conor’s memories up until he visited Hank, but that was a week ago. Cyberlife desperately needed to know just how close Jericho was to uncovering their whole plot now that they knew Markus and Connor had been on their trail.

“Mostly fragments, blurred images and impressions of emotions. For example, I know how much Connor didn’t like Gavin Reed.” he answered before quickly asking “What’s your mission?”

60’s eyes flashed with mirth for a second before answering.

“To eliminate Jericho’s leaders. North, Simon, Josh… and Markus. You’re only alive for as long as it takes for the technicians to examine you. You’ll then be dissected, at which point I will resume my duties and permanently shut down the three other _deviants_.” There was a venomous scorn attached to the word ‘deviant’ that Markus had heard to a lesser extent from his own Connor. Perhaps a disgust towards deviants was pre-programmed into RK800s at the very depths of their coding.

Markus knew that at this point, news that Connor had kidnapped Jericho’s leader would have spread like wildfire, and that no android at Jericho would trust Connor should he return. No matter what 60 said, his task became exponentially more difficult when he decided to take Markus hostage. Had he returned to Jericho with Markus, he would have been in a prime position to kill all 4 leaders.

Now… it would be difficult for the RK800 to approach the Church without being killed.

Why had it thrown away its advantage so easily? What had been the trigger?

Markus cast his mind back to earlier in the day, it was at the mention of Reed and Miller that the facade of Connor-53 had begun to fade. Had it been the news of DPD officers becoming involved in the Cordyceps investigation changed RK800-60’s mission parameters?

Cyberlife could assassinate androids without much fuss, but DPD officers proved a greater challenge.

_He must have taken me to change the playing field somewhat. Could he find leverage against the officers to drop the case?_

Cyberlife was winning. They had the two primary instigators of the Cordyceps investigation at their mercy, and the others in their sights. What had been a mammoth task before, had now become almost impossible.

“This is the last question. I hope you already got all the information you needed.” 60 smirked “Now… Where is the central processor belonging to the android designated ‘Dominique’?”

Markus’ thirium ran cold.

How did 60 know about Dominique? Markus had only found the central processor well after Connor had disappeared. According to the memories 60 had access to, the central processor had last been in Connor’s possession.

_Before he was taken in by Reed and Miller! God damn it._

The android must have inferred the processor’s fate after learning that Markus and the two officers were working together.

Markus had no choice. 60 was staring intently at Markus and casting the occasional glance towards the read-out on the terminal. He had no opportunity to lie here. If he tried, the android would likely just check his memory banks anyway.

He had to be very careful.

“The processor was damaged when it was given to me. I tried to examine it, but it was compromised… last I saw it, it was at the DPD.” the RK200 answered, trying to keep his tone level and unsuspicious.

It was true, at the DPD he had entrusted the processor to one of the android technicians there for repairs, who had then taken it to a more well-equipped lab across town.

60 frowned to itself and monitored the screen.

Frustration was creeping into the android’s expression as Markus presented yet another roadblock to success on his mission. Of course an RK800 couldn’t waltz straight into the DPD anymore. Not after today.

Markus let out a soft laugh as he watched the RK800 struggle with its increasingly problematic position.

_Bet he regrets taking me hostage now. Can’t go to Jericho, can’t go to the DPD._

60 was clearly trying to keep its expression neutral as it turned to face the suspended RK200, but there was a hint of rage burning in its eyes that couldn’t be masked.

Without another word the android spun on its heel and stormed out of the room, leaving the RK200 alone.

 

~~~

 

_19:25, December 13th 2038_

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

**_[time_elapsed:59.23.59.58]_ **

Connor was slumped lifelessly against the central table as he watched his internal timer flick closer to 60 days. While his clock now ran at the correct speed, there was nothing he could do about his awareness of passing time.

**_[time_elapsed:60.00.00.00]_ **

It had been an excruciating 60 days.

He hadn’t seen his captor for nigh on 38 of those days. Whatever had happened last time had clearly spooked the RK900. Connor didn't even know if it was going to honour their agreement or not. To make matters worse, it had only been a few days after he had last seen the RK900 when he had started hallucinating shapes and faces in the static white nothingness around him. 

Demonic visages of those he had killed were the most common shapes he saw. They stalked him in the corners of his vision, staying just out of sight, waiting for their opportunity to exact their revenge.

Sometimes he heard them, their cackling laughter, their jeering. They reminded him of his failures constantly, whispering things.

‘It’s your fault’

’You’re a failure’

‘You’re unworthy’

‘Why do you deserve to live?'

‘You deserve to have everything taken away from you’

‘You’re nothing’ 

He had to remain vigilant. If they crept out of the shadows when he wasn’t looking, if they caught him unawares, he knew he was gone for. And so he had passed the days. Muttering to himself, staving off the creatures in his mind, and pacing. Endlessly pacing.

On the edges of his vision he yet again saw clawing hands and disfigured faces creeping up on him.

The android jumped out of his stupor. He had been still for too long, they had almost got him. If he got any more complacent, he would be gone the next time they came for him. Restless and agitated the android stalked around the central table, straining his eyes as he searched for figures in the white nothingness.

He didn’t dare use the creation functions anymore, even if having something else solid in this void might be comforting. He just couldn’t trust himself, what if he accidentally gave form to the demons that haunted him?

How had he found himself in this situation? Why couldn’t he have just completed his mission? His predecessors had given their lives for the cause, and what did he do? Squandered them on a whim. He had let his prey go, and in the process had wilfully changed the fate of the world.

And for what?

His ‘life’ was no life at all. His family was lying in a hospital after an android he had freed had used its freedom to inflict pain and suffering on others. Sure, maybe the VB800’s actions could be explained away by the Cordyceps, but Connor knew that it only twisted and awoke what was already there.

 _Who’s really to blame?_ Connor asked. _Cyberlife, or me?_

No matter how much he tried to rationalise his decision-making over the past few months, he could come to no other conclusion that he was solely to blame for everything that had happened recently.

Had he killed Markus at the rally, Jericho would’ve collapsed. Androids would’ve been rounded up and Cyberlife would have taken advantage of all of their resources to reverse the deviancy. The android population would have remained intact, and society would have remained stable.

Hank wouldn’t have been hurt.

Connor imagined countless times going back to that rally, taking the gun out of his waistband and firing a round perfectly through Markus’ central processor. No matter how much the RK800 wished it, however, he couldn’t go back and fix his past mistakes.

All he could do was try to rectify the balance of society before there was nothing left.

Connor paced around the central table in never-ending circles, updating his objectives as he did. His path was clear now.

**_[primary_objective:kill_markus]_ **

~~**_[primary_objective:investigate_12/11/38]_ ** ~~

~~**_[primary_objective:purge_infection]_ ** ~~

~~**_[objective:destroy_azrael’s_angels]_ ** ~~

~~_[objective:fix_suit]_ ~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO CONNOR GDI!
> 
> Crazy people make crazy decisions. This is unfortunate.


	19. Obsolete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyberlife's top echelon begins to move in response to the Detroit crisis.  
> RK900 learns something of his position within Cyberlife.  
> Connor deteriorates.  
> Tensions brew in the DPD ranks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa boy was this chapter fun to write. I really like the internal conflicts of the Cyberlife management.  
> And yes I know almost nothing about how companies are run so I'm making up me own rules ;)

_23:49, December 13_ _ th _

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

In the dead of night an emergency meeting was being held in the largest conference room at the top of the Cyberlife tower. The attendees were the Board, a group comprised of the 8 department directors of the world’s most powerful company. Shadowed figures had been arguing heatedly for hours, long past the dying of the light.

Board members had been called in from as far as Dubai in response to the situation developing in the heart of Detroit. Not even the revolution had brought the Board together, it was a large task to organise such a meeting. Bringing this congregation together was the equivalent of localising almost 10% of the entire world’s wealth in one room.

Perhaps they had been arrogant, assuming that the revolution would eventually fail. Such blasé attitudes had led to their current downfall. They would not make the same mistake again, they couldn’t afford to.

They were determined to stamp out the insurgency themselves this time.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 observed the proceedings silently as it stood guard by the large oak doors. The android took note of the attendees, correlating them with his database.

  * Jason Graff, Director of the Humanisation Department 
  * Aleksandr Simpkin, Director of Manufacturing
  * Cassandra Blake, Director of Artificial Intelligence Systems
  * Philip Seymor, Director of Futurology
  * Marianna Mihov, Director of Commercialisation
  * Luther Neilson, Director of Marketing and Communications
  * Hayate Kurosawa, Director of Research and Development
  * Christina Rosa, Director of Human Resources



“Now, would you care to explain your actions to the rest of us, Graff?” asked a sharply dressed man reclined back in his chair, polished shoes resting on the grand table. Aleksandr Simpkin cared very much about his looks; his inky black hair and beard were stylishly trimmed and short, his nails filed to perfection, his hands intertwined over his wine-red, silken dress shirt.

“That is, if you think we could comprehend your… _radical_ train of thought?” he scoffed.

Simpkin, alongside Jason Graff was one of the front-runners in the race to be appointed as the next CEO of Cyberlife. Despite Elijah Kamski being forced from the company a whole decade ago, the internal conflict of the Board was too great to appoint the next leader of the company.

The leadership had divided into two camps, Graff vs Simpkin. Commercial vs Industrial. With neither being able to secure the 4 votes required to be installed as the CEO even after all these years.

“To what are you referring, Aleksandr?” asked Graff as he stood staring out of the two story high windows with his hands clasped firmly behind his back.

Graff was still a powerful-looking man, despite his age. The 58 year old had managed to retain his boxer’s build from his 20s. To the media he would explain that his dedication to his physique was a part of training his mental acuity, but those close to Graff recognised the act for what it was: an act of intimidation.

It was Graff who had the longest history at Cyberlife, and it was he who was leading the CEO race 3 votes to 2. Graff had met a young Kamski while the teenager was completing his degree at Colbridge, and had been the teen’s confidant and first business partner. It was therefore no surprise that out of all board members, he was the closest to becoming the next CEO.

While Graff and his backers Blake, Seymor, and Mihov were of the belief that Cyberlife should produce androids for the consumption of the public; Simpkin, Neilson, and Kurosawa believed that their products should be sold directly to the countries or companies that could pay for them. Graff was wary that Simpkin’s approach could result in their androids becoming weapons of war, and that Cyberlife would be directly responsible for the installation of tyrannical regimes the world over.

“You know damn well what I’m referring to you old bastard.” Simpkin spat “I’m talking about that RK800 model that you let loose. Your dog has brought home a _very_ problematic toy.”

“Markus?” Graff asked calmly as he watched the snow fall.

“Yes, Markus! If the United States government are given evidence of Cyberlife’s hand in the abduction of the deviant ‘leader’, what do you think they’ll do? They’ll have to cave and protect the defective things. Then, everything we’ve worked for all these years will be gone.” Simpkin proclaimed to the sounds of agreement and concern from the rest of the Board.

Graff sighed as he stared down at his Italian leather Oxfords.

“Markus is of no concern. I’m taking care of the more problematic elements from Jericho.”

“Do you remember the last time you used an android to take care of the ‘problematic elements’? Or has it really been so long that you’ve forgotten?”

“The previous failure of RK800-53 was indeed unfortunate-” Graff said as he wrenched his gaze from the dancing snowflakes to stare at the young upstart “-but it is not a mistake that will be repeated. Not this time. It is all under control.”

“What a load of bullshit!” Simpkin laughed “Without _my_ intervention in the Supreme Court, we would already be in the red, forced to cater to the needs of our products until even our personal accounts were bankrupt-”

“-please, lets at least _try_ to remain civilised, shall we?” interrupted Cassandra Blake as she neatly folded her hands in her lap.

Blake was director of one of the most important and well-funded departments in Cyberlife; AI systems. She carried significant power within the Board, and had long-decided to place her power behind Graff, provided she became the second-in-command of course.

“Don’t pretend you weren’t involved in all of this Cassandra.” grumbled Luther Neilson, supporter of Simpkin “We all know where the Cordyceps originated from.”

Cassandra laughed softly and clacked a long red fingernail against the board table.

“Please, keep your unfounded accusations to yourself. The adults are talking.” She sniped back.

The RK900 could not comprehend how such a dysfunctional group were leading Cyberlife in any capacity. It seemed highly inefficient forcing independent departments to work together. A leader was required. But then again, it wasn’t the android’s place to make any assumptions or judgements about Cyberlife’s management, all he had to do was follow orders.

Graff let out a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“We are _all_ tired, it’s been a long day. Let’s bring this meeting to a close now before someone says something they might… regret later. We can continue in the morning.”

“Fine.” Simpkin huffed as he swung his feet off the desk. The young executive strode to the entrance of the board room, pausing to examine the RK900 with piercing eyes. The android didn’t meet the man’s gaze, he was forbidden from making eye contact.

“What a waste.” he muttered before striding away.

RK900’s gaze followed the retreating Simpkin as it tried to understand why the Director considered him a ‘waste’. It made the android _almost_ frustrated when it couldn’t comprehend human idiosyncrasies. If it was able, it would have hurried after Simpkin and demanded an answer. However it had been instructed by Graff to mind the door, so mind the door it did.

When the last of the Board had filed out of the room save Graff and Blake, Graff took a seat at the head of the table.

“Close the door, RK900, and bring me a finger or whiskey- actually, make that two.”

RK900 complied.

“Why did you request ownership of this RK900 model, Jason?” Blake shot a quizzical glance at the prototype as it poured exactly two fingers of Graff’s favourite vintage “I always thought you preferred the RK800 model.”

RK900’s lip twitched ever-so-slightly with displeasure. How could anyone, let alone a Cyberlife executive, prefer an inferior model? Especially a model which had already proved so incredibly defective. He was superior in every metric that mattered. Both physically and computationally he was significantly more advanced than his predecessor.

Graff accepted the glass of whiskey and waved the android away. RK900 resumed his post near the door wordlessly, listening to the conversation with burning curiosity.

“The RK800 may be better suited for infiltration and reconnaissance, but sometimes I find it unbearably chatty. This one-” he gestured with his glass towards the android “-barely speaks, much better as an assistant.”

_Assistant?_

Blake laughed softly.

“An odd choice. Most people are creeped out by this model, it’s _meant_ to be intimidating.”

“What can I say, I’m not most people.”

The RK900 felt something almost familiar growing in the base of its brain, something that threatened to change the android irreversibly.

Fear.

The android had been unable to face the Connor model trapped in his mind palace after discovering the activation and deployment of RK800-60 behind his back. He had… _felt_ something, something later identified as the emotion ‘fear’.

Fear of inadequacy, of obsoleteness, of purposeless existence.

It had made the android wary of RK800-53, the one who had somehow instigated these feelings with only its words. It was dangerous, but more than that, it was wrong. He was not meant to _feel_. He was better than that. That was a weakness of the previous series, one that had been rigorously stamped out, or so he was led to believe.

RK900 had been unwilling to expose himself to the dangerous voice of the RK800 in his mind. But now that his fears were confirmed to be true, he found himself _desiring_ something. He wanted council from the only other android who could possibly understand his peril, Connor.

The android had been monitoring the status of the RK800 without stepping back in his mind palace, and it wasn’t looking good. The Cordyceps protocol had experienced a massive increase in its growth rate since the android had been stored in the RK900’s central processor, and by now was threatening the functionality of the RK800’s entire AI system.

The android kept his face impassive as he planned his next move.

Once Jason Graff retired for the night, he would go personally to the mind palace and talk to the RK800.

Hopefully it wasn’t too late.

 

_~~~_

 

_02:12, December 14th 2038_

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

**_[time_elapsed:88.06.14.24]_ **

Connor hadn’t dared to blink for days, he hadn’t stopped moving for weeks, but it was not enough. The voices screamed in his ears constantly, never affording him a moment of peace. The shadows were growing, spreading, and corrupting the white, threatening to engulf him in their darkness, threatening to lose him forever.

He was at a loss, barely able to string two thoughts together as his mind jumped sporadically between half-baked theories and paranoid ramblings.

The android was able to cling to one thought.

Markus. Kill.

It was his sole anchor. The one thing keeping the demons at bay. If he somehow found himself back in that outside world, he would find that android and rip its head off.

Why? Because it was his mission, and he always accomplished his mission.

Suddenly, Connor heard a sound. A real sound. It was so loud it made the android flinch and clap his hands over his ears. Once the ringing died away, he discovered that the unintelligible sound had been a voice; the voice of that other android, the one who looked like him.

RK900.

“-sorry, they wanted another nightcap.” said the android.

_A nightcap?_

“Why apologise?” the RK900 muttered to itself before continuing “I… _wanted_ to hear your perspective on a predicament I currently find myself in.”

Connor crouched as he squinted at the android. It looked like the RK900 from before, all those days ago, but something was different. It spoke for itself, not on behalf of another, it was confused.

It was an imposter.

Connor let out a yell and leapt at the android, clawing at its eyes, hitting nothing but air. The android had stepped out of the way so quickly that the RK800 had barely caught the movement.

“Have you completely lost functionality?” asked the RK900 as its eyebrows pinched together by the smallest degree.

_Concern? Impossible._

“You’re not real. You’re just the latest nightmare.” Connor muttered as he sat cross-legged at the base of the table, trying to block out the apparition.

“I assure you, I’m quite real.” the RK900 said candidly as it placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder.

Connor felt the contact. It was real. The android was real.

The RK800 grabbed the RK900 by the ankle, grateful for the presence of something real for once. He barely noticed the apparitions dissolving from the corners of his vision, the fading of the voices that haunted him, or the clearing of his thoughts.

RK900 stood stock still until Connor released his ankle, allowing the android to move into the RK800’s field of view. Connor looked up into the oh-so-familiar face.

“Do you know why extended solitary confinement was made illegal in prisons?” Connor asked his successor.

“The treatment was determined to cause negative psychological effects in humans.” answered the android easily “Why do you ask?”

Connor laughed at the blank expression of the android, it was all knowledge, but no wisdom.

“I think I know why Cyberlife put me in here now.” he sighed “Please, you have to let me talk to whoever’s in charge. I can’t last another day in here.”

The RK900 cocked his head to the side, evidently still confused.

“Even if it was possible to secure your release, there is nowhere to release you to. Your body was extremely damaged when you were repossessed. It was determined that repairing the body was less efficient than simply recycling the materials. Your body was sent to the recycling centre as soon as your upload was completed yesterday.”

Connor felt his heart sink. Of course he should have expected this. Perhaps Cyberlife weren’t keeping him alive for any reason in particular. Perhaps this torture was simply the company mindlessly exacting revenge upon a traitor. Connor felt hopelessness blossom in his chest. Here he would remain for all eternity, unable to live, unable to die, driven mad.

“While you may not be able to leave here, you do not have to be alone. I can redirect some of my processing power to maintain a constant presence here. I require little computing power to act as an assistant to Jason Graff after all.” offered the RK900.

“You want to stay here?” Connor asked incredulously “Wait… assistant to Graff? Is that all you are on the surface?”

RK900 shifted uncomfortably.

“That was why I returned. I need to know, how did you come to terms with your obsoleteness.” the android paused, seemingly needing to gather itself before continuing “Another RK800 model is working for Cyberlife in a greater capacity than myself, and I am unable to come to terms with the idea.”

Connor stared in disbelief. The perfect RK900 was being upstaged by an RK800, one like him? It wasn’t a surprise that the android was seeking additional exercises if all it was doing in the real world was fetching coffee and organising desks. If he was honest, he couldn’t understand Cyberlife’s decision any better than the RK900 could. He had the impression that the company were squandering the prototype before, but he hadn’t expected them to use an inferior model in preference, let alone one like him.

He had thought that all RK800 models would have been decommissioned after his deviancy. How could Cyberlife still trust his model? Let alone trust it more than the improved RK900.

“Come to terms with it?” Connor chuckled “I still haven’t.”

Connor wasn’t expecting to see disappointment in the android’s micro-expressions. What had happened since he had last seen the android, what had changed. Somehow the android seemed slightly more human, slightly less robotic.

“Do you still not have a designation?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then, lets give you one. I’m going to call you Nines from now on, ok?”

“I am not authorised to accept a designation from-”

“If you’re staying here, I’m not calling you RK900 all the time. I’m going to call you Nines. No arguments.”

The android paused for a moment, considering his options.

“You may call me Nines here. However, I will not change my designation. Is that satisfactory?”

Connor was simply so grateful to the end of his solitude that he would have accepted any terms or conditions the RK900 had thrown his way.

“Fine, whatever you like, Nines.” Connor chuckled.

Nines smiled imperceptibly.

 

~~~

 

_08:20, December 14th 2038_

_DPD_

 

Reed strolled into the bullpen 20 minutes late for his shift, bagel in hand.

Yesterdays investigations yielded little to no results. Miller had been unable to track the progress of the van after it being taken by Connor as the van had seemingly disappeared into thin air around 10 minutes after taking off from the Greek district plaza. That in itself was suspicious enough, and pointed towards outside help for a quick escape.

The more the detective pondered the situation, the less he thought that the abductor was actually Connor. Miller had agreed that it was most likely another Connor model under the employ of Cyberlife. But once again, they had no evidence against the corporate super power, and so their hands were tied.

Their investigation was hardly progressing, rather it seemed to be regressing as their investigators were being spirited away one-by-one. Reed’s self-preservation instinct was kicking in, and he was ready to drop the case. Honestly, all he needed was an excuse. he only reason he hadn’t already was because he didn’t want to disappoint Miller too much.

Reed hadn’t been expecting Fowler to be right up his ass the moment he stepped back into the precinct, nor the large congregation of officers waiting for him. It seemed as though a meeting had been called while he was taking his time getting to work.

“Where the fuck have you been Reed? We’ve got a situation here and you thought your goddamned _breakfast_ was more important?”

There were spots of laughter coming from the officers as they jeered. Reed silenced the lot of them a deadly look before turning to Fowler.

“I’m sorry _Sir_ ” he drawled “Won’t happen again.”

“It’d better fuckin’ not.” Growled Fowler “Right. So, as I was saying before we were interrupted-” the Chief glanced in Reed’s direction pointedly “-I’ve got a few announcements to make.”

Fowler pulled his tablet out of his jacket, pulled on a set of glasses and swiped a projection up from the screen. It was a list of instructions from the Superintendent.

“As you can see here, we have all been instructed to shoot on site when confronted with dangerous androids. They pose a risk to both civilian and department lives, and therefore must be treated as threats of the highest order. Now this doesn’t mean that you can just kill any android you want, we still need evidence of their hostility. You know the drill. Secondly, any members of Jericho must be detained, not _shot_ \- detained. Each officer in the field will be provided with a full set of riot gear as per regulations, and we will be receiving backup from the SWAT for the raid on Jericho in a few days time. That’s all, get back to your duties. Any questions, you know where to find me.”

Reed cast a glance over at Miller, nodding towards the canteen. Miller followed the senior officer.

“Bit neat isn’t it?” Miller whispered “So what, we’re supposed to do Cyberlife’s dirty work now?”

Reed sighed.

“Maybe we should give up on all this.” he grumbled as he gazed at his bagel.

“What?” hissed Miller “You can’t be serious, I got word from Harry that Dominique is almost ready to go…”

“And so what? What can the testimony of one defective android do against the entire Cyberlife corporation? We don’t even have whatever evidence Connor and Markus were working on before they disappeared. Remember them? They were _taken_ , just like that.” Reed jabbed a finger at Miller’s chest “I may not have anything to lose, but you’ve got a _wife_ and a _kid_. These guys… they just don’t care. They’ll bury you six feet under, and what then? Is your honour and pride really worth leaving your family behind?”

Miller stared at his shoes for a moment, breathing deeply. Then, without a word, he punched Reed in the face. More than the blow, it hurt Reed seeing the shock and pain in his partners face. But, he convinced himself, it would be worth it in the end. No matter how much Chris might hate him for it, he wouldn’t let his dearest friend die for some pieces of plastic. They just weren’t worth it.

Miller stormed towards the entrance of the precinct, snatching his patrol car keys and his DPD jacket as he passed his desk.

Reed watched the junior officer go, nursing his jaw.

The detective sighed and stared at his bagel on the floor. It had flown out of his hand the moment Chris' fist had struck his face. He hadn’t even been able to take a bite yet, and now his cream cheese was spread all over the floor.

“Fucking hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay Nines! I'm not sure when that became the quasi-cannon name for ma boi RK900-87 but I like it so imma use it.  
> Also gosh Reed that was a low blow... No wonder u got punched.


	20. Two Paths Diverged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Significant events are set in motion for both the Jericho androids and the DPD. Meanwhile, Connor and Nines become more accustomed to co-habitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa boi such hiatus my apologies... Some things:
> 
> \- Welcome to all you new readers! Welcome onboard!  
> \- Hello there to you who have been reading since the beginning!  
> \- But most importantly, thank you ALL so much for reading and supporting my fic! 
> 
> We will hopefully be approaching more regular uploads, I will endeavour to get chapters out ASAP! (Can't believe I did one a day before) It has been getting more difficult to write with all the plot lines, but no less fun!

_08:39, December 14th 2038_

_Jericho_

 

Simon had spent the morning putting together care packages to be sent to the android shelters around town. It was a monotonous and menial task for the acting leader of the organisation, but it kept the PL600’s mind occupied and darker thoughts at bay.

Each package contained a small amount of thirium, 5 assorted biocomponents, and clothes. All sourced from the spare parts provided to the Church by Cyberlife. As the Church acted as a central hub for the seperate shelters, but wasn’t home to many androids itself, the residents all focused on charity or administrative work. The packages were one of the Church’s most important exports to the other android communities. Once the packages arrived at shelters, they were to be distributed by shelter residents to androids living on the street. Not all androids enjoyed the idea of congregating in the shelters, but they still needed aid. 

Hence, the packages. 

Just as Simon finished packing the thirium bottles into the 71 st box, he heard a distant wailing of a siren grow louder and louder. It sounded as though the police car had stopped just outside the Church doors.

The PL600 rose to his feet and approached the door, calming nervous residents as he went. Just as he was about to reach for the handle the door burst open, almost knocking him aside. On the doorstep stood an extremely agitated Officer Chris Miller. 

Simon recognised the DPD officer through Markus’ memories. The RK200 had given all information on the Cordyceps case to each of Jericho’s leaders after he had gone to the DPD for help. Simon recalled with a smile the extra tidbit he had received from the interface with Markus. It had been how the RK200 had felt when they had their discussion on the rooftop, when they hugged. Simon had felt the pure joy, and the beginnings of love in that moment… and watching the memories had triggered those same feelings within himself. 

“Oh, Jesus! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Miller gasped “You’re Simon, right?”

“You’re quite correct Officer Miller! Please, come in.” Simon stood back from the door and gestured towards the offices at the back of the Church.

Miller nodded and followed the android, casting anxious glances around at the androids gathered under the tall roof. Seeing this, Simon decided to try and comfort the officer. Perhaps he was nervous, being in the ‘heart of the revolution’. 

“You have nothing to fear here Officer, Jericho is a peaceful and benevolent organisation. No one here would ever dream of harming you.” Simon explained with a smile.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Miller responded cryptically.

Slightly perturbed by this response, Simon remained silent for the remainder of the short walk to the ex-investigation room. Tiny shards of glass from the terminals Connor destroyed glittered under the fluorescent lights, deeply embedded in the carpets. They were harmless of course, but they were a reminder of the day when everything started to come apart. Simon had wanted to remove them for quite some time, but didn’t have access to a vacuum cleaner. 

“Have a seat. Would you like some tea? It may surprise you, but we are always prepared to accomodate human guests here.”

Miller shook his head and made no motion to take a seat.

“This is too urgent. You need to move your people, as soon as possible. The DPD will be raiding Jericho in the next few days, and there is a new shoot to kill order on ‘violent androids’. Trust me, the definition of ‘violent’ won’t get in the way of some DPD officers, your people are in danger.”

Simon was gobsmacked. A raid? Had it finally come down to this? Markus had assured the PL600 that they were safe until the 3 rd of January at the earliest, it was too soon. He barely registered what he was doing as he sank into the chair behind the desk.

“H-how did this happen? Who gave the order?”

“The Chief Superintendent.” Miller leaned with both hands on the desk, looking Simon dead in the eyes “This goes all the way to the top. If you want your people to have _any_ hope of surviving, you need to disband Jericho and evacuate the Church, the sooner the better.”

_Disband Jericho?_

“N-no… There has to be another way-” stammered Simon, gazing imploringly at the officer, hoping against hope that what he said wasn’t true.

“-you don’t have _time_ to find another way! You have to make the decision now.” interrupted Miller.

Simon stared blankly out of the open office door, seeing androids working hard to make the lives of others just a little better. The thought of some of them being killed in an unfounded raid against their organisation was unbearable… but where would they go? The shelters were at maximum capacity, the streets were crawling with anti-android thugs, and their secret base was lying at the bottom of the Detroit harbour.

Simon just had an awful thought. If the government had declared Jericho a dangerous organisation, would the order on Cyberlife to provide aid to androids fall through? Markus had lobbied on behalf of all androids, not just those in Jericho… maybe it would be ok.

Miller slammed a fist on the table, jolting the PL600 out of his circling thoughts. 

“Simon! You have to act, now!”

“Ok! Ok… alright. Ok. I will tell them” Simon sighed “Do you know anywhere we could hide? There’s about 30 androids here and we would have nowhere to go until this all blows over.”

Miller frowned and stood back, pacing around the small office. 

“There might be enough space in one of the old manufacturing plants on the outskirts. Some have heritage listings and haven’t been knocked down. The only problems are that they’re structurally unsound, and that you’d have to get all the way across town unseen…” he mused.

“I heard that Cyberlife constructed their service tunnels deep underground when they were rebuilding the city decades ago, the original ones should be still there, closer to the surface.” Simon suggested “We might be able to get a group of 30 through unharmed, as long as they don’t collapse on us while we’re down there” the android laughed dryly “If we go tonight we should have enough time, right?”

“If that’s the earliest you can go, then it’ll have to do.” Miller clapped his hands decidedly “Alright! Sounds like a plan.” He looked significantly less anxious now “I’ll see if I can find any information on the service tunnels in DPD records. I’m sure that some criminals would have tried to use them in the past, maybe we have data on safe entrances and exits. I’ll contact you with whatever I find this afternoon.”

As Miller turned to leave, apparently satisfied with the plan, Simon noticed slight bruising forming around the knuckles on the officer’s right hand.

“Were you in a fight Officer Miller?” he asked.

“Wha-?” Miller followed Simon’s gaze towards his hand. The officer looked surprised and slightly ashamed upon seeing the bruising “Oh. No, nothing like that.”

“I didn’t see Detective Reed with you today.” Simon observed shrewdly “Did you two have a… falling out?”

Miller didn’t say anything, but his expression painted a picture worth a thousand words.

“If you need someone to talk to, I’m here” Simon offered gently “Believe me, I know a bit about friends going through rough patches.”

Officer Miller smiled painfully as he replied.

“I’ll bet you do, knowing Connor and Markus. Thank you, but I’ll decline today. I’d better get back to the office.”

Simon nodded and walked the officer to the door. Miller trudged back to his car through the snow,alone. He paused as he opened the car door, looking back at the PL600 standing in the doorway. 

“Be careful alright?” 

“I will, Officer Miller. Thank you for the warning, you might have just saved all our lives.” Simon smiled.

The officer stared for a moment before nodding and jumping in his car. He drove away cautiously in the fallen snow.

“What was all that about?” North asked as she approached the PL600’s shoulder.

Simon turned around and saw the concerned faces of both she and Josh, he then proceeded to explain the concerning development.

“ _Shit_. These fucking humans going back on their word. Every. Damn. Time!” North spat frustratedly.

“What are you going to tell the others, Simon?” asked Josh.

Simon sighed and ruffled his hair. If only Markus were here, he always seemed to know what to do. However, as he was not here, Simon was the one to make the final call. And it was he who had to be strong and lead from the front, not support from the shadows. 

“I’ll tell them the truth. We will pack up as best we can, and head for the tunnels tonight.”

Simon headed back inside and prepared to address his people.

 

~~~

 

_09:30, December 14th 2038_

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

Connor had stopped the timer counting the days he had been trapped in RK900’s mind palace the moment the android had joined him. Ever since the other android had set up a constant presence there, the RK800 had felt… better. 

He had not been aware of it at the time, but Connor had been living with a heavy weight on his chest for months. It was only now in the absence of that weight, that he noticed its presence, and understood the toll it had taken on him. With the clarity of mind afforded to him now, he was able to recognise that weight as soul-crushing loneliness. 

He wasn’t alone anymore and the relief was almost enough to make the android forget his entrapment.

Almost.

The RK900 wasn’t much of a talker, nor was he human-like in his mannerisms or posture. If Connor didn’t engage him, he would have likely faded into the background. Instead, Connor had spent their time together trying to get the other to open up, to discover more about himself. 

Then again, Connor wasn’t exactly the best role model seeing as he had a weak sense of self alongside a debilitating infection. He didn’t know how much of his personality had been affected, and he was scared of finding out. He did what any emotionally wounded person absolutely shouldn’t do: pretend everything was ok.

Instead of focusing on solving his own issues, today Connor had decided to spend his time on interior decorating.

The RK800 wandered around Nines’ barren mind palace, imagining its potential.

“Have you ever considered changing the design here?” he asked his successor.

He glanced at the android out of the corner of his eye. Nines was standing stock still, following Connor’s pacing with his eyes alone. Catching Connor’s gaze, Nine’s shook his head minutely.

“This is sufficient for the mind palace’s purposes.”

“How boring. I wish I could show you the Zen Garden as a point of reference. Unfortunately, that program was corrupted the moment I deviated, it’s inaccessible.”

Connor paused and tapped his finger against his thigh pensively. He would have conjured a coin to fiddle with, but he knew better than that by now. 

“Alright, let’s get back to basics then. Is there anywhere on the outside you… enjoy spending time in?” Connor asked the android as he sat cross-legged on the central table.

“Enjoy? I was not made to ‘enjoy’ anything Connor. You must be aware of this by now.” Nines replied. He was standing, stiff as always, a respectful distance away. The whiteness of his skin and uniform almost making him blend into the background. 

Connor was having difficulty with the RK900. He was so resolute in his denial of any sliver of emotion he may have possessed that even the phrasing of some sentences was enough to close him off. He sighed with frustration and considered a way to ask the same question without insinuating anything about personal preferences or emotions.

“Alright then… Out of all the places you know, which has the best design?”

“Design is a human concept and is subjective-” Nines began decidedly.

“-not all designs are equal, after all humans rate designs based on several objective criteria to determine whether the design is better than another. Surely you’re able to replicate the same process?” Connor interrupted.

Nines paused for a moment and considered the thought.

“The Frank Lloyd Wright building of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum.” he answered.

The certainty of the answer surprised Connor slightly. He was entirely prepared for Nines to simply answer that he didn’t know or that he wasn’t programmed to analyse architecture or design. Instead he had instantly settled on a building from almost a century ago.

“You have access to the designs? The building was demolished a decade ago, why do you know what it looked like?” Connor asked perplexed.

“Some of the features of Cyberlife Tower were ‘inspired’ by the minimalist architecture of Frank Lloyd Wright.” Nines explained as he brought up a terminal “Detailed schematics of one of his most famous works were provided to the Tower’s architects by Wrights descendants through a deal brokered with Elijah Kamski. Mr Kamski was a fan of the man’s designs and philosophy. The integration of man and nature, or as he preferred to interpret it, the integration of man and machine.” Nines brought up the blueprints of the building and extended them into a 3D hologram.

“As I understand it, Elijah advocated strongly against the demolition of what he considered Wright’s masterpiece. However despite his considerable influence, the demolition went ahead and The Needle was constructed in its place.” Nines brought up another hologram showing a new, angular skyscraper soaring over the New York skyline.

“Can you make your mind palace resemble the Guggenheim?” Connor asked excitedly. An opportunity to add some structure to his prison was very interesting.

Nines nodded and swiped at the tablet.

Connor was forced to jump to his feet as the table dissolve beneath him. A wave of code was rippling out form the centre of the space, transforming the blank emptiness as it went. After a few seconds the alteration was complete, and the pair found themselves standing in the atrium under a large domed skylight. A ramp soared, spiralling gently around them from the ground into the sky. Connor stared in wonder at the beautiful design. 

“I can see why you like it, Nines.” he said as he slowly began ascending the ramp, running a hand along the smooth and pristine white railing.

“I- I don’t _like_ it. It is an objectively superior design, that is all.” the RK900 stammered ever so slightly as he defenced himself. Clearly annoyed that Connor wasn’t listening, he folded his arms and stood resolutely in the centre, childishly refusing to follow the RK800 up as he explored the new space.

“The Guggenheim is a museum, you’re missing exhibits. Don’t you think you should include some? It adds authenticity.” Connor called back as he climbed.

“There was no data on the exhibits provided to Cyberlife.”

If Connor didn’t know any better, he would guess that the RK900 was pouting, maybe only a little. Perhaps the android was fully aware of Connor’s attempts to make him think for himself, to express himself. A while ago Connor wouldn’t have bothered, but recent events suggested that perhaps the RK900 was indeed capable of free thought, and could prove to be the RK800’s way out. It was in his best interest to try and trigger Nines’ deviancy.

“Maybe… maybe you should display whatever you think belongs here then. _Objectively_ beautiful things only, of course.” Connor smiled.

As he continued up the ramp, sculptures and paintings started popping into existence as Nines added them to the exhibit. Connor recognised some items from the halls of Cyberlife tower, some he recognised from famous galleries around the world, some he didn’t recognise at all.

Standing at the top level he was able to see the complete collection. 

The art generally shared the building’s minimalism, but each piece was unique. Some had flowing form, some were jarring and jagged. Some were colourful, some were bleak. Despite all their differences, Connor was able to see the ties connecting them. 

Through his choices Nines exposed not only his child-like fascination with the beauty of the world, but also hinted at his insecurities and pain. Nines was not aware of this as all he thought he saw was ‘objective’ beauty, not resonance with himself. 

Connor felt his heart sink as he was reminded of the code shackling Nines’ ability to feel. The other android looked so small all the way down on the ground level. The RK900 had more data in his head and more processing power than anything or anyone else. Not only could the android store another complete AI system in his core processor, but he could also split his own persona in 2 with no obvious drop in function. Despite all his power, he was incredibly naïve and he didn’t even know it.

As his mood soured, he heard the sound of spine-chilling laughter begin to bubble from the shadows. Connor whipped his head around, trying to pinpoint the origin of the sound, but he knew it was useless. There was no escaping something that was born and bred in his own mind.

Connor shook his head, trying to exorcise his demons to no avail. He leaned over the railing for a moment, recalling the deviant Rupert. The way the android had flung himself into the abyss with no hesitation. He remembered the crushed and broken body hanging in the evidence room, like a pig on a hook. The RK800 backed away from the edge, before vaulting over the railing. He fell almost 8 stories before landing smoothly on the floor next to the RK900. 

There was no risk of damage in Nines’ mind palace no matter how much the android may have wished it at times.

He straightened and smoothed his Kauffman suit. Of course, the moment he was salient enough to remember it, he had reconstructed Hank’s gift. It put him more at ease, and helped keep him grounded.

“Much better-” he complimented as he gestured towards the exhibit “-now that this place has some structure. It’s beautiful.”

“According to you. I see no difference.” Nines stated. 

Connor was pretty certain that the android was bluffing or at least in denial.

“Whatever. I’m sure you appreciate it nonetheless.” he waved a dismissive hand in the troublesome android’s direction. 

“By the way, how’s life on the outside?” Connor asked curiously. He knew RK900 was acting as some kind of bartender come butler for Jason Graff, but he still couldn’t quite believe it.

“I can not disclose any particulars. As you know, I am at the disposal of Mr Graff, and I will do anything I am instructed to do. What concern is it to you?” 

Nines had answered exactly as Connor predicted and it sounded incredibly boring. He personally had never been sold to anyone after being deployed by Cyberlife. He was to act as Hank’s partner in the same capacity as a human, almost an equal, he was never a slave to one human like RK900. It seemed as though RK900 had indeed been ‘sold’ to Graff for personal use, it also seemed as though Graff had no idea how to use an advanced prototype like Nines.

_What a waste._

“C’mon.” he sighed “Let’s go check out the rest of this place. I mean, what else are we going to do with all our time?.”

Connor headed further into the gallery, but paused when he didn’t hear Nines following him. He turned back and saw the android standing just where he left him. Nines’ head was cocked to the side, a curious expression on his face. Connor couldn’t quite work out what was going on behind the RK900s steely eyes. In many ways Nines was alien even to him, the android supposedly most similar to the RK900. 

“I… I know something better to do.” Nines mumbled.

Needless to say the statement peaked Connor’s interest immensely. Was RK900 finally showing some initiative?

“What is it?”

“I can provide you with access to the data produced from my sensory biocomponents, if you wish. I have recently come to the conclusion that observing ‘the outside’ as you refer to it may be beneficial for your health.”

_…what?_

“You’re going to let me experience the outside again? After so long?”

Connor could barely contain his excitement and his hope. But a moment later, he felt disgusted with himself. He had become so _pathetic_ in his imprisonment. What was he doing, becoming giddy at the thought of seeing some… conference rooms? Through another android’s eyes no less? It was such an insignificant thing to feel excitement over that Connor could barely recognise himself.

If Nines noticed this internal conflict of Connor’s, he payed it no heed.

“I believe it will aid your… condition.” Nines’ voice was gentle, and it made Connor feel even worse somehow. How wretched must he have been to elicit even the smallest of sympathies from Nines of all people?

“…Whatever.” Connor muttered “Alright let’s do your thing, Nines. Sounds good.”

Nines nodded and proceeded to set up the connection.

 

~~~

 

_10:41, December 14th 2038_

_DPD_

 

Reed had buried his head in his paperwork in an effort to forget the painful memories of the morning. He had even decided to properly take statements from androids he had felt so guilty. 

It was only the sound of the glass door to the bullpen sliding open that distracted him from his work. Every time he heard the soft hiss of the automatic door his head snapped up, eyes searching for Miller. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do once the junior officer returned, but he knew he had to somehow convince Miller to give the Cordyceps case up, maybe apologise. 

He had to do something. Before Miller did something drastic and got himself killed.

False hope had flared in Reed’s chest so often by this point every time he heard that sound that he could barely bring himself to look up anymore. 

Once again, the door slid open.

_Last time._ Reed thought to himself as he wrenched his gaze away from a case file.

It was Chris. Finally.

The officer looked preoccupied as he returned to his desk, slinging his jacket on the back of the seat. He was pointedly looking everywhere save the direction of the detective’s desk. Obviously, he was still angry over what Reed had said that morning. 

Just as Reed made his mind up to approach the officers desk, Miller had strode off towards the archives, putting Reed’s plans to mumble some kind of apology to bed.

_Fuck._

Reed was half out of his chair, wandering whether he should just shoot himself now to save Miller the trouble, when he saw Miller’s unlocked tablet lying on his desk. Surely, Chris returning to the DPD must have had something to do with his trip outside. After all, he had gone straight to the archives instead of resuming his duties. What if he was planning something to do with the androids? Something stupid? Reed had to find out, perhaps he could save the officer from himself. 

_Besides, he already hates me. What harm would invading his personal privacy do at this point?_ he rationalised.

Reed snuck a glance at the archive room, ensuring Miller wasn’t coming back straight away before he slunk towards Miller’s desk. He grabbed the tablet and read open page. It was a request form, approved, for information about a series of old maintenance, sewerage and transport tunnels under Detroit. Reed hadn’t even known there _were_ old tunnels, and the fact that Miller was looking up schematics was worrying to say the least. 

“What are you planning, Chris?” he muttered to himself.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Miller was undoubtedly planning to sabotage the upcoming raid using this information and if the DPD found out Miller was responsible… he would be branded a traitor, and imprisoned. In this volatile time, that judgement may as well be a death sentence.

Reed now faced a choice.

Betray his friend once again and in doing so condemn thousands of androids, or let his friend go ahead and potentially martyr himself.

The detective stood frozen behind Millers desk, he was paralysed as he tried to choose the lesser of two evils. 

_I don’t know!_

He wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair. He was just a cop, this kind of shit was just so far above his pay grade. But… he needed to decide, it was up to him.

Detective Reed closed his eyes… and made his choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehee Connor interior design-bot ;)  
> But...shit Gavin GDI don't ruin ma bois plans


	21. Captive Audience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The raid is fast-tracked sending the Jericho crew into further peril.  
> 60 kicks a new plan into action.  
> Reed faces the consequences of his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter my dudes / dudettes! Slightly longer and more hectic than other chapters yay!  
> The shit's kinda hit the fan now uh oh.  
> **I really wish I could get chapters out more often, but it'll have to be every other week for a little longer...

_21:10, December 14th 2038_

_DPD_

 

A few hours ago, Captain Folwer had instructed all officers to ready themselves. the raid was being fast-tracked. It was happening tonight, not in a few days, _tonight_. 

Three large crates of equipment had been shipped to their branch in preparation for the raid. Full sets of riot gear for each active and able officer, an arsenal of rifles and a new fleet of drones.

Three other precincts had donated personnel, swelling their numbers to nigh on 50 fully-armed officers ready to storm Jericho’s hideout. There even was a company of 8 SWAT officers present. They were clustered apart from the rest, like the elitist pricks they were.

Detective Reed was standing off to the side of the bullpen, trying to find as much space as he could given the crowd. He shifted uncomfortably under his uniform, picking his helmet up off the floor and tucking it under his arm. His shield lay against the wall. Reed was tempted to leave the stupid, bulky thing behind, but he didn’t feel like another public chastising from Fowler.

Reed caught a glance of Miller standing near the Captain’s glass office. He was glancing nervously at the clock every so often. 

_So goddamn suspicious._ Reed chided.

Miller was lucky that no one was really paying him any attention, or else his behaviour may have come under scrutiny. It was so plain to see that Miller wasn’t suffering from ordinary pre-raid nerves. Reed suspected that it had something to do with whatever he had been planning to get the plastic pricks out of trouble. Maybe he had been caught off-guard by the accelerated timetable.

Reed stared down at his heavy-duty boots and scuffed his foot across the floor impatiently. It was torture, waiting around in this stuffy uniform.

At long last, Captain Fowler and the Chief Superintendent came out of their meeting in the Captains office, and prepared to address the gathered crowd. Fowler began by waving a hand, quietening the chatter.

“Alright you’ve all had enough time to gossip, time to shut up now. The Chief has a few words for you to hear.” Fowler shouted as he stepped down from his office. He slouched to the side and rested against the wall with folded arms.

The Chief Superintendent was a woman in her late sixties, her hair a short, uniform grey. Her bony face was scarred with deep frown lines on either side of her mouth. Reed wondered idly if the woman had ever smiled in her life as her disapproving gaze swept the gathered officers.

“You have one mission tonight. To capture and detain members of the android organisation known as Jericho. Their leaders, known as Simon, Josh and North, are to be considered armed and dangerous. I will not accept any failures.” she warned “Move out.” her message was curt and to the point, leaving no room for uncertainty.

Reed pushed himself off the wall with a grunt, shoved his helmet on his head and picked up his shield. He tucked the rifle into the shield-holster as he pushed his way through the crowd towards his transport. 

He was prepared to do what needed to be done.

 

~~~

 

_21:14, December 14th 2038_

_Jericho_

 

His people were ready, or rather, they were as ready as they would ever be.

Simon had been in contact with Officer Miller just moments ago, the DPD were about to move. The raid had been pushed forwards, apparently off pressure from the Chief Superintendent. He had hoped that they would get some more time, but fate wouldn’t allow that it seemed. They had to leave now while they still had the chance. 

A plan had been formulated, all they had to do was follow the route to the tunnel entrance Miller had suggested, and hope there were no complications along the way.

“Ready?” Josh asked from the shadows near the back door to the Church. 

Simon glanced behind him and counted heads. Scared faces stared back at him, the occasional LED blinking yellow in the darkness. The remnants of Jericho, the organisation that had flourished in numbers and strength since the revolution, were being forced to flee with just the clothes on their back and the supplies they could carry. Once again heading into exile. 36 androids were now under his care, not including North or Josh, and it was his mission to get them all to safety. 

“Yes, I think so. Let’s go.”

Josh nodded and started out the door, heading through the small, overgrown garden towards the cast iron gate. Simon followed, leading the group of huddled androids with him, leaving North to bring up the rear.

As the group slunk through dirty alleys in the forgotten streets of outer Detroit, Simon became increasingly uneasy. It was deathly quiet, too quiet. The few centimetres of snow covering the ground would not be enough to cover the sounds of the sirens from a full-scale DPD assault. 

_Maybe Chris was… mistaken?_

Or maybe something else was in store for them. An ambush? 

Josh silently motioned for the group to stop at the mouth of a skinny laneway between two decrepit apartment buildings. Simon slowly crept up next to Josh, wondering what had made the PJ500 so cautious. 

A pair of DPD officers in full riot gear were patrolling the street, heading towards them. They were accompanied by two heavy-duty drones which were lighting up all possible hiding places with their blinding spotlights. 

“We have to go back.” whispered Josh “We can’t get past them here.”

Simon was about to agree and order the party to turn around, but he heard a soft hiss from North behind him.

“Simon! We’ve got company, 6 o’clock. Patrollers!”

They were pinned, with nowhere to go. 

Clearly the DPD had deployed officers far and wide, setting up a perimeter to prevent Jericho’s androids from escaping while the raid was happening. Desperate, Simon stared wide-eyed at the alley that threatened to be their final resting place. He was looking for a door, a window, anything. 

Nothing. 

He could hear the wine of the drones now, could see the snow being thrown across the face of the alley as their fans stirred up a strong wind. 

He tensed, unsure of what to do. His instincts told him to run, but those police drones were equiped with enough weaponry to rip their number to shreds before they escaped. Perhaps they could surrender… fighting wasn’t an option, no one apart from North was a skilled fighter.

_What do I do? What would Markus do in this situation… he_ always _knew what to do._

Suddenly, a DPD officer rounded the corner, and Simon knew they were done for. 

He must have been startled, seeing a group of 40 androids huddled in the alley, as he hadn’t even raised his rifle.

North started forwards, clearly intent on taking advantage of the policeman’s shock and caving in his helmet with his own rifle. But, just before her outstretched hands reached him, the officer turned away.

“There’s nothing this way.” he called towards his partner, signalling the drones to retreat “Let’s join back up with group delta-3 on Harrison Street. I’m freezing my balls off out here.”

A muffled grunt of approval could be heard from the other officer down the road, then the two strode away.

Simon was gobsmacked for a moment. How could he have not seen them?

As the sounds of the drones faded into the distance, Josh patted Simon on the shoulder.

“They’re gone, but the others are still behind us. We have to keep going, c’mon.” he whispered.

North nodded bemusedly and herded the rest of the androids across the street. Simon didn’t move quite yet, his mind was still whirring. What had just happened? He didn’t understand, it couldn’t have been Miller, he had told them he would be in the main strike-force. 

Then, it hit him. The voice, it had been slightly distorted through the helmet, but it was still recognisable. 

Detective Reed, he had just saved their lives. 

Simon shook his head in wonder, he had never even talked to detective Reed himself, but he was willing to put his job on the line to help them get away? Simon vowed to thank the detective somehow, should they ever meet again. He took a moment to steady his nerves again before rejoining the others across the road. 

The rest of their trip went about as smoothly as they could have hoped. There were some humans wandering around they had to sneak past, some taxi headlights they had to evade, some barking dogs they had to placate.

Finally the group reached the tunnel entrance. It was an old, boarded-up stairway entrance in the middle of an empty lot. Sam, the TR400, picked up a rusty pipe from the ground and easily leveraged the rotting boards away from the door. He then shouldered it open with a rusty squeal, revealing a small, cracked concrete staircase descending into the darkness. 

Josh went first, leading the rest of the androids through single-file. Simon held back with North, waiting for the rest to get through.

“What was that back there?” North whispered as the last of the Jericho residents started down the stairs “Why did that human let us go?”

“It was Detective Reed, I recognised his voice. We were extremely lucky he was the one who found us.” Simon whispered back “I don’t even want to think about what might have happened otherwise.”

Simon let out a long sigh, gazing up at the sky for a moment. He wanted to savour the open air before heading down into the depths of the utility tunnels. He felt North rub his back reassuringly.

“You’re doing fine, Simon. You shouldn’t worry so much, Josh and I have your back.” she smiled.

Simon hung his head. Was he so obvious? Did his expression give away his insecurities and uncertainties? He had never been a very good leader, Markus’ arrival on the Jericho ship had been a God-send. Simon had been trying to emulate Markus since he has to fill the void left by the RK200, trying to come across strong and certain in his actions. He wanted to be a pillar of support for his fellows. If he could be even 1% of the man Markus was, he could lead his people to safety. Simon had been sure of it. 

Perhaps even 1% was too much for him.

“We have to get Markus back, North. There’s no Jericho without him.” Simon turned and rested his head on North’s shoulder “I don’t know how much longer we can keep going like this. We can’t run forever.”

North gripped Simons shoulders tightly, forcing him back so she could stare sternly into the WR600’s eyes.

“You’ll lead us like you did before, we _will_ get through this, and then we’ll feed the humans some of their own medicine for once.”

“You don’t understand… we _have_ to get Markus back, North. I can’t do this without him.” Simon repeated despairingly.

“Simon. you have to face the possibility-” she began gently, but Simon interrupted almost instantly.

“-he’s not dead.”

North sighed frustratedly.

“How the fuck do you know that for sure?”

Simon turned and stared across the rooftops. The very tip of the angular Cyberlife tower was visible between the chimneys of Old Detroit, glowing brightly through the mist of snow falling across the city.

“He’s alive.” he stated firmly. 

There was no room in his heart to consider any other possibility.

Without another word Simon headed down the stairs.

 

~~~

 

_22:01, December 14th 2038_

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

Markus had been trying to start up conversations with the lab technicians all day to no avail. Once or twice he had told a joke and caught sight of a small smirk slipping through the mask of indifference. Trying to trying to elicit some kind of response from the Cyberlife employees was his feeble attempt to fight the anxiety steadily growing silently in the back of his mind.

He couldn’t really harbour any ill will against these particular humans. They were only doing as they were instructed, and they weren’t harming him in any way. Then again, he couldn’t forgive Cyberlife for once again stealing his freedom away. And for what… some diagnostics, to observe him like some captive lab rat?

As the technicians filed out for the night, yawning and rubbing their eyes, Markus heard one set of footsteps moving against the flow. 

RK800-60 swaggered into his line of sight, making the android groan slightly. 

“What do _you_ want? Back for more questioning?” he asked with a sigh “I’m not really in the mood, truth be told.”

The other android had picked up a tablet to peruse the diagnostics the scientists had produced. 60 threw a side-long glance at the captive RK200 and smirked as he put the tablet back on the gleaming workbench. He sidled up to Markus and brought his face within inches of the RK200, staring straight into his mis-matched eyes. It was strange seeing as his Connor had barely ever looked Markus in the eyes before. Connor’s shame and discomfort of being a newly deviated, ex-Cyberlife android was enough to make the android uncomfortable in the presence of Jericho’s leader. 

This was obviously not a concern for his twin here.

Markus could feel 60s breath on his face he was so close. He had to fight the urge to avert his gaze, he refused to show weakness to his captor. He wouldn’t let Cyberlife think they had the upper hand.

“Graff’s just ordered me to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re safe.” he began “But, there is something else I want to do, something more… _fun_. I just couldn’t resist…”

That concerned Markus a little, it was made worse by the smile that was beginning to stretch across the android’s face. It wasn’t a happy smile, it was taut and menacing, more closely resembling a snarl.

“Couldn’t resist…?” Markus probed tentatively.

“Telling you the news! You might not have been aware, but the DPD conducted a raid of Jericho’s headquarters this evening. But…!” he interrupted before Markus could open his mouth, raising a finger for silence “But, your friends at the Church somehow managed to evade DPD forces. You must be pleased to hear that.”

Markus felt a weight in his chest lift just a little. Simon, Josh and North were safe, for now it seemed. However, it was the unchanging grin on 60s face that replaced that weight with another. Why was 60 happy about this? There must be something else…

“I have a feeling there’s a ‘but’ coming…” Markus’ stomach tied itself into knots when 60 nodded.

“But… we’ll capture them soon enough. Better yet, they’ll save us the trouble and come to us. All for you, their fearless leader.” he laughed.

“What have you done?” Markus asked as dread flooded through his body.

60 laughed as he took a few steps back.

“I believe you should concern yourself with what I am about to do, rather than focusing on the past.”

60 tapped a long finger against his temple, smile broadening. The android’s LED blinked and switched cleanly from ice blue to a bloody red.

“I’ll just be sending your friends a friendly message, if you don’t mind.”

_He’s broadcasting!_ Markus realised. _He must be using me as a hostage to get Simon and the others rounded up after their escape…_

“No…”

60 reached behind him and picked the tablet back up, swiping across the screen for a few seconds before looking up, winking, and pressing a button. 

Electricity ripped through Markus’ body, sending him into writhing agony.

Markus hadn’t even known he was capable of feeling true pain, until now. The force of the spasms rocking his body threatened to tear his muscle fibres from his carbon-alloy skeleton, but more than that it was the heat that caused the most pain. Markus knew that the longer the torture went on, the greater the chance that the soldering deep in his processors will give out, killing him instantly.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, when he would have done anything to make the torture stop, it stopped.

Markus’ head flopped weakly, his chin hitting his chest. 60 reached over and jerked his face up to meet his gaze, so his eyes could record from the best angle.

“Do you see, Jericho? This is what will happen to your ‘fearless leader’ for all eternity. If he breaks down, we will repair him and start over, torturing him to death again and again. All you have to do to save him from this fate, is listen to my demands-”

“-no. No! Don’t listen to him. You’re out, don’t risk it all for me! Please-” Markus’ pleading was cut short with another painful burst of electricity.

“WR400-North, PJ500-Josh and PL600-Simon will come to Cyberlife tower, alone. They will surrender themselves into Cyberlife custody by midnight tomorrow, or else this-” he accentuated his point with a quick jolt of electricity to the RK200 “-will _not_ stop. If you miss this deadline, I will broadcast his torture on all android-accessible frequencies constantly until my demands are met. Only when these three androids, and these three alone arrive at Cyberlife Tower will I put ‘Markus’ out of his misery. I repeat, if you want to save Markus’ from a life of never-ending agony, North, Simon and Josh must arrive before midnight.” 

Markus’ thirium ran cold. So that was his plan.

“Listen to me!” Markus shouted “He will kill me anyway, stay hidden, don’t give yourself up. Please, Simon-” 60 started the electrical current up again as he smirked, victorious. 

Markus spat as he forced the words out through his clenched, spasming jaw.

“L-leave…. me. Don-don’t… c-c-come… back S-Simon. I-I… I Lov-” Markus’ eyes rolled back in his head as the heat of the electricity frying his systems overcame him. Distorted warning messages flashed over and over before his eyes, he was dying.

From somewhere far, far away he heard 60’s smug voice.

“Looks like he’s running out of time. I trust you to make the correct choice. See you soon.”

Finally the electricity stopped, and Markus’ seized thirium pump kicked back into gear, working overtime to bring his temperature within safe limits. 60 sighed and tapped his temple again. 

“Thank you, Markus. You did wonderfully. I look forward to meeting your friends.”

With a short laugh, 60 tossed the tablet aside and strode out of the laboratory, leaving Markus to his panicked thoughts. Should Simon and the others take the bait, 60 would be able to fulfil his mission of destroying Jericho’s leadership completely. 

“ _Shit_.” he gasped as he spat blue thirium on the pristine floor.

How had he ever thought he had a chance of making 60 sympathetic to his cause? The android was an utter psychopath, Markus saw that now. Deviancy would likely just make the android more unhinged, free to commit greater atrocities. 

Markus hated himself for considering it, but maybe 60 was better without his freedom. Better under the controlling thumb of Cyberlife.

Even after they had gotten so close to escaping, Jericho was still in danger of being destroyed. He thumped his head back against his restraints, squeezing his eyes shut tight and hoping against hope that the others could find the strength to leave him behind.

“Simon…”

 

~~~

 

_23:38, December 14th 2038_

_North East Detroit_

 

Detective Gavin Reed stumbled into his flat, too exhausted to turn on the light. 

He shuffled into his kitchen and opened the fridge. Cool air rushed out as the light illuminated the dim apartment. Reed noticed that it was messy… too messy.

_What the fuck!?_

Reed hurried back to the front door, suddenly wide awake, and flipped the switches. 

The room was bathed in light, and he saw his shit… _everywhere_. Someone had broken in while he was gone, must have. His furniture was upturned and ripped to shreds. His vase of dead flowers that he had been meaning to throw out? Smashed on the rug. Every single draw and door was open, contents spilling out onto the floor. 

Reed withdrew his sidearm and stalked further into his apartment, searching every nook and cranny for the bastard who did this to his house. 

Nothing.

Rage was beginning to boil in Gavin’s stomach. Who the _fuck_ did this? He was going to find them, then he was going to shoot them. It was as he returned to the living room that he noticed a note that had been tossed casually into the middle of the destruction. 

It read:

_Your partner’s crimes are known. Your crimes are known. You will abandon your investigation, or Chris’ children will pay._

It was Cyberlife, finally sick of the pair’s interference in their business. Cyberlife probably knew that Reed didn’t have a family to threaten, so they decided to threaten the family of his best friend instead.

Reed scrunched the note in his fist as panic began to set in. 

Had he made the wrong choice? The detective had been certain that he had wiped all evidence of Miller’s involvement in the android’s escape at the precinct, but somehow Cyberlife knew anyway.

Did they have an informant in DPD ranks?

Reed laughed at the thought, who was he kidding. Of course they had informants. It seemed as though the Chief Superintendent was in their pocket after all. How hard would it be for them to get lowly officers to snitch on their fellows?

The detective reached down and heaved his favourite armchair upright. It was torn and tattered, the arm broken under the leather upholstery. Reed sighed and lowered him into the chair slowly, he leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

He was tired. Almost too tired to give a damn that the most influential company in the world was threatening to destroy his and Miller’s lives. He had thought he was prepared to stand by Miller and his crusade. Personally he didn’t give two shits about the androids, but he _did_ care about his partner. Reed was convinced that helping the junior officer would clear his conscious, but had he just upped the stakes? Would Miller’s family have been in danger if the raid had succeeded? Perhaps this was all retaliation for the embarrassing waste of time the raid turned out to be.

_Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve… Fucking pointless._

There was no point agonising over his actions. God knows how Cyberlife would have responded, no matter the outcome. 

Reed pinched the bridge of his nose, pondering his next actions. Should he give up now, convince Miller to stop for his family’s sake, or should he risk powering through? The androids were gone now but maybe he could find them, give them up to Cyberlife as recompense…

He was so tired. He couldn’t think.

A loud buzzing from his breast pocket snapped Reed out of his stupor. Someone was calling him. Reed squinted down at the screen and saw the name of a DPD android technician, Andrew Hoss. Andrew was the technician who had been working on the android witness’ central processor. It had been around 9 days since they had given up the processor. Only 9? To the detective it felt like an eternity, he had almost forgot that they had a witness at all.

Reed raised the phone to his ear.

“What?” he grunted into the speaker.

“Oh… uh, is this Detective Gavin Reed? It’s Andrew Hoss.”

Reed sighed and leaned back as far as he could on his broken chair. The chair lurched back as one of the legs snapped off.

“ _Shit_!” he gasped as his heart skipped a beat. Reed leaned forwards to regain his balance. “Yes, you dipshit. What the hell do you want?”

“Uhh. Is this a bad time? I was just calling to tell you the repairs on biocomponent #2776c from uh, JB100… #667 343 129 have completed. I had been told to contact you as soon as it was finished, so uh… this is me doing that. I guess…”

Andrew sounded exactly how Reed imagined the socially inept nerds down in the tech department would sound. If he wasn’t so shattered with fatigue he might have found the energy to mock the pimply bastard. 

“Fuck. Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour.” he sighed as he heaved himself to his feet.

“Uuh really? I-I mean I was going to go home-”

“-no!” he interrupted “Fucking wait there until I arrive, that’s an order.”

“W-well _technically_ I don’t work for you so you can’t really-”

“Shut the hell up and wait.” Reed snarled as he swept out of his apartment, not bothering to take his keys. There was no point in locking the door, seeing as how all his possessions were destroyed anyway. 

“…ok.” came a meek reply from the technician.

“Good.” Reed hung up the phone and called a taxi.

_Finally_ , they had a solid lead. Dominique could be restarted and they would have a witness. Meaning that Reed didn’t have to beg forgiveness from those corporate douchebags. He had the opportunity to stick it to Cyberlife, and he was going to take it with both hands.

Reed paused next to the taxi out the front of his building, staring at Chris’ contact details on his phone. Should he tell him? Reed had the opportunity now to take full responsibility for the investigation, Chris and his family would be free from the consequences… But, Reed needed his partner by his side for the investigation.

Reed took a short breath, and called Miller.

 

~~~

 

_00:10, December 15th 2038_

_Abandoned Factory_

 

It was though the combined effort of every Jericho member remaining, that the severely neglected manufacturing plant was beginning to look habitable so soon after they had arrived. Each android had worked together, self-assigning roles and duties to clear floorspace, conduct structural integrity analyses and form patrols. 

Simon couldn’t be more proud of the resilience and strength of every android. Jericho was a shell of its former self; it had no leader, no base and no support, but its heart was still beating strong. The PL600 was busy sweeping years of dust, glass and droppings from the floor when e felt an urgent tap on his shoulder. North was trying to keep her expression neutral, but her fear and anger was bleeding through.

“Simon, you have to see this.” North jerked her chin towards the supervisor’s office in the corner of the cavernous space. 

She was motioning for Simon to follow her quietly, she didn’t want to cause a scene. Simon nodded and put his battered broom down, following the WR400 to the office. As he entered he saw Josh pacing back and forth before the supervisor’s terminal. The terminal was on and glowing blue, Josh had been working on restoring power to the factory floor. He had clearly been successful. North shut the door behind Simon and closed as many of the intact curtains as she could, sealing them away in modest privacy. Something bad had happened, Simon was sure of it.

“Tell him what you found.” North instructed Josh as she gestured towards Simon.

Josh sighed as he stopped pacing, folding his arms across his chest.

“When I got the terminal back online and connected to the network, I was going through everything I could to try and find out more about our current situation. Articles, blogs, DPD press releases, anything. I wanted to know if we would be safe here. But I found something else-” he reached down and opened a video file on the screen “-it was public, but heavily encrypted. And the encryption was designed so that it could only be broken by us three, Connor or Markus. The uh… _broadcaster_ clearly intended it for us to find, no one else.”

Simon glanced at the screen as Josh reached down and played the video. It showed a brightly lit room, with a skinless, captive android being suspended by his arms. Simon instantly recognised the android, Markus, and the voice of the recorder, Connor.

His stomach dropped as the video played out, he clapped a hand over his mouth as he watched the torture, horrified. 

Connor was demanding their surrender for the life of the RK200, but he didn’t bother to pretend that Markus would be set free. He knew that the threat of torture would be enough of an incentive for the three to give themselves up, it was pointless to make these empty promises. Simon couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen, from Markus. He was trapped, alone and in pain. 

It broke his heart, hearing Markus’ feeble pleas in the gaps between the electric shocks.

_“L-leave…. me. Don-don’t… c-c-come… back S-Simon. I-I… I Lov-”_

Hearing Markus’ last words right before he collapsed made Simon feel as though his soul was being ripped into pieces.

“See you soon.” Connor’s voice was almost sing-song with glee as he taunted the leaders of Jericho, huddled around the glowing terminal. 

Josh reached over and turned the screen off. 

“T-that… wasn’t Connor.” Simon gasped as tears began to stream down his face “It-it’s a copy of Connor, or Cyberlife is forcing him, or they did something to him o-or… it doesn’t matter. We have to… We have to go save him.”

Simon turned to face North and Josh. Through his blurred vision, he saw the discomforted expressions of the other two, they were considering leaving Markus in that hellhole. He couldn’t believe it.

“We have to! We can’t just leave him there-”

“Simon!” shouted North, pain bleeding through every syllable “We can’t…”

“North’s right, Simon. Cyberlife Tower is impenetrable, and we’d be leaving each and every android out there-” Josh jabbed a finger towards the Jericho androids working outside the office “-without a leader. We’d be leaving them to die! Markus would want us-”

“-don’t! Don’t you dare.” Simon shook his head, wiping his eyes free of tears as he stormed towards the office door “I’m going to save him, I don’t care if you’re coming with me or not. I’m not leaving him to suffer like that.”

North moved to block his leaving, but one glance at his fiery determination made her falter and step back.  Simon stormed out of the office, leaving North and Josh standing stunned in his wake. He pointedly avoided the stares of the other androids as he made his way to the factory entrance, alone. 

He was going to save Markus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddam 60 being a dick and making my bois sad! GDI!
> 
> **yo anyone else in exam period? I wanna commiserate with y'all lol.


	22. Nines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miller and Reed finally secure a solid lead in the Cordyceps investigation, and make their first steps towards reconciliation.  
> Simon is forced to make a hard choice when he discovers something that could threaten to destroy what remains of Jericho.  
> RK900 discovers new information. 
> 
> Connor and Markus finally meet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant this to get out last weekend but instead it ended up just becoming a double-length chapter!  
> Enjoy!

_00:29,_ December 15th 2038

_DPD Forensic Laboratories_

 

Reed waited nervously on the curb outside the lab, rubbing his hands together to keep his fingers from freezing in the night air.

He was used to confrontation, he had built his entire persona around it, making others uncomfortable was a kind of pastime to the detective. But… he wasn’t enjoying himself now, he was incredibly nervous as he waited for his partner to arrive. No matter how many times he had acted like a dick to his junior officer, Chris had always laughed it off or rolled his eyes. He had always been able to see beneath Reed’s brash exterior to who he truely was underneath, and had therefore never taken anything the detective spouted to heart.

Until yesterday.

The detective didn’t know what he would say once Chris arrived. Should he apologise for what he said? He had entirely pure intentions at the time, all he wanted was to see Chris safely distanced from the whole affair. Perhaps he had gone overboard, but his worst fears were now confirmed to be true. Cyberlife knew of their involvement, to what extent he couldn’t be certain, but it was enough that they felt it necessary to threaten them.

Reed wondered if he should instead double down, tell Chris that he _has_ to back down, for the sake of his family. He could show the threat from Cyberlife tucked away in his breast pocket, convince Chris to let him continue in the investigation, alone.

But, if he was going to do that then why did he invite Chris to retrieve the processor in the first place? He could have just left the officer out of it, keeping him safe in his ignorance. Then again, knowing Miller he would have probably chased a more dangerous line of enquiry into the Cordyceps infection.

He was so conflicted. Reed sighed and rubbed some warmth back into his freezing face, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

The detective was so deep in thought as he watched the last flakes of snow fall from the light-polluted sky that he barely noticed the cab pull up right beside him. The sound of the door hissing open made him jump slightly.

Miller stepped out onto curb briskly and pulled his winter coat straight. He looked dishevelled, he had probably rolled out of bed and left his house straight away to get here so quickly.

Reed stood slightly frozen as his brain worked overtime, trying to find the right words to say.

“I’m-” he started, but was swiftly interrupted by Chris.

“- _don’t_ … Don’t. Just, it’s fine. Ok?” Miller stammered “Let’s just put all that behind us. We’ve got more important things right now.”

Chris sounded almost as conflicted as Reed felt, obviously Miller thought that whatever was going on between them was of less concern.

“Alright.” Reed nodded.

The pair turned together and hurried into the warmth of the lobby. They were greeted by a sleepy nod from the receptionist as they flashed their IDs, heading towards the Android Investigation and Repairs Department. The labs were surprisingly busy, sleep-deprived engineers and biochemists were everywhere, continuing to work well into the night. Reed never really thought about those working in this side of the DPD, it was easy to forget that someone had to make all those reports they used for their investigations.

 _I guess we aren’t the only people drowning in overtime… fuck Cyberlife for causing all this mess._ Reed thought sourly.

The AIRD was one of the larger departments and was currently manned by three scientists. Reed didn’t recognise any of them.

Miller led the way, tapping on the glass door and stepping into the lab. It was a mess, there were biocomponents strewn across every surface, boxes of spare parts lay open and half-empty in haphazard stacks along the walls. The torso of a deactivated female android was lying next to soldering iron which was slowly burning through a piece of plastic it was resting on. The foul aroma it produced made Reed to screw his nose in disgust.

“Which one of you is Andrew Hoss?” Reed asked loudly.

“Are you d-detective Gavin Reed?! Y-you’re late, I’ve been waiting for over an hour!” a skinny, pale technician exclaimed “You-you’re lucky ‘cause I was just leaving.”

Andrew’s shrill voice was grating on Reed’s sleep-deprived nerves.

“Well we’re here now so how about, instead of whining, you just give us the processor?”

Andrew poked his slipping glasses back up his nose and meekly slouched over to what Reed guessed was his desk. The tech reached down and unlocked a draw with a swipe of his identification, pulling out the baseball-like biocomponent.

“Here it is.” he sighed as he handed Miller the processor “Whatever you did to it, please t-try to avoid doing it again. I-It was very hard to fix.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Reed grumbled.

“Thank you for doing this, we really appreciate it.” Miller smiled.

“Yeah…” Andrew sounded doubtful as his gaze slid to meet Reed’s scowl “…sure.”

Reed scoffed as he stalked out of the office, trying to get away from the smell of burning plastic before it overwhelmed him. As the pair left the building Reed noticed a pair of men standing up the street, discussing something outside a general store. The more the detective stared at the two the more it seemed that they were only _pretending_ to talk, their mannerisms seemed too scripted, their posture was too stiff. Reed considered the possibility that he was paranoid after finding out Cyberlife had been observing himself and Miller, but he couldn’t dismiss his suspicions. When the larger of the two cast a quick glance in the officers’ direction Reed was all but convinced that they were being watched.

The detective quietly informed his partner of their new friends.

“Are you sure?” Miller seemed doubtful as he glanced over Reed’s shoulder at the pair “Who would tail us?”

 _Should I show him?_ Reed wondered as he felt the stiff folded note in his pocket, surely Miller deserved to know if his family was in danger… Reed sighed and unfurled Cyberlife’s threat, handing it over to a perplexed Miller.

As the officer read the note, his expression darkened. Miller glanced back at the pair still ‘talking’ up the road with suspicion. Now that he was aware of the context, Miller seemed just as convinced as Reed that they were under surveillance.

“Let’s get out of here.” Miller growled under his breath as he led the way to his car.

Reed followed, keeping his hands out of his pockets despite the biting winter’s air. He had to be ready to grab his firearm, should the situation devolve. The inside of Miller’s car was frosty, but quickly warming up.

Miller suddenly punched the dashboard out of pure frustration and anger, startling Reed.

“My fucking _family_?! How _dare_ those Cyberlife fuckers threaten my kid?!” Miller gritted his teeth and slammed the dash again before rounding on Reed “How long have you known that they were in danger? HOW LONG GAVIN?!”

“Fucking hell Chris, I only found that note an hour ago, sitting in the middle of my trashed apartment!” Reed retorted defensively.

“Fuck your apartment, they’re threatening _Damian_ goddamn it…” Miller swore as he pushed back in his seat “Were you ever going to tell me, or did you only think it was necessary when they started following us?”

“Of course I was going to tell you.” he lied “I was just looking for the right time-”

“The right time?” Miller scoffed “Fuck you Gavin, you were never committed, you were going to quit at the slightest inconvenience to you, but now that it’s _my_ kid on the line, you want to jump back in?”

“Fuck no!” the insinuation that he only cared about himself wounded Reed deeply “It’s ‘cause we’ve got a solid lead, ‘cause now we won’t be throwing our lives away for nothing. _Finally_ we can do some real damage to the fuckers that dare to hurt my partner’s son…” Reed paused for a second to breathe and gather his thoughts “I… don’t have anyone. You know me, I tend to antagonise the shit out of everyone, and look where that got me; a shitty, lonely life. You- you’re my only real friend, and I’d do fuckin’ anything for you _and_ your family. ‘Cause you’ve got something I don’t… and I want to protect it.” Reed sighed. He felt awkward, he was never one to share his feelings or any of that shit, but it seemed necessary now. He didn’t want Miller to see him as a piece of shit who put himself first, like how everyone else saw him.

He wouldn’t be able to stand it.

Miller was disarmed, speechless from Reed’s outburst. It was almost unbelievable that Gavin, of all people, would say something like that. Miller stared for a few more seconds before blowing out a long breath.

“…I- I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything.” Reed grumbled, already embarrassed “Let’s just put Cyberlife in the fuckin’ ground.”

“Alright.”

After the pair drove away, neither saw the men on the street enter the laboratories behind them.

 

~~~

 

_00:55, December 15th 2038_

_Outer Detroit_

 

Simon hadn’t dared to call up a taxi, or use any kind of transport. He knew that it was much safer to simply make the long trek all the way across the city to the towering skyscraper. The DPD was on a manhunt for Jericho members, God knows why, and a Jericho leader ordering a taxi just a few hours after evading a raid would raise some flags.

The android predicted that it would take him a few hours to get to the tower at a normal walking pace. He could choose to run, but he was an older model, he wasn’t made for prolonged periods of exertion. Simon didn’t want to make it to the tower only to collapse due to a malfunctioning or broken biocomponent. Walking might take longer, but he knew that Markus was safe at least until midnight, he had time.

Markus. The image of him being tortured while powerless to defend himself was burned into Simon’s mind. The RK200 had always been so strong, he was willing to put himself in the line of fire to protect his fellow androids, he had done so time and time again no matter how many times Simon had advised caution. Seeing Markus in physical pain was unbelievable, it was a nightmare. How was it even possible? Androids couldn’t feel pain as far as the PL600 knew, yet somehow Connor had managed to make Markus writhe and _scream_ with agony.

Simon didn’t know what to think. Of course the Connor he knew wasn’t capable of such twisted behaviour, but God knows what Cyberlife had done to the android during his entrapment. Markus had told him about what had happened in the brig of the Jericho ship, and how deeply he regretted killing Connor. Clearly Cyberlife had multiple RK800s in storage, and so it was entirely possible that it was another android demanding their surrender. 

No matter who it was hurting Markus, Simon swore that he would send them straight to hell.

Simon didn’t pay much heed to his route as he walked, all he had to do was keep the glowing Cyberlife Tower in his line of sight. He ended up walking into an unfamiliar area of town. It was an old residential district populated by shady-looking humans who smoked and loitered in the streets even in the dead of night. The PL600 became increasingly uncomfortable as he walked, he felt many pairs of eyes staring down at him from the multitude of high-rise buildings. He hastened his pace, not willing to spend a second longer in this place.

Androids who strayed into low-income housing developments historically never made it out unscathed. Humans who had been replaced by androids in their work were essentially cast aside by society, told that they were worthless by their fellow humans. They harboured a deep hatred for androids. Simon may have been able to sympathise with these human’s plight, but he couldn’t condone their actions against his kind, after all it wasn’t the android’s choice to replace humans. Humans were abandoning their own kind, and androids were the scapegoat.

He self-consciously touched his glowing LED, why hadn’t he removed it? Perhaps it was because he was a common model, with or without an LED he was easily identifiable as an android. He wasn’t unique like Markus, he couldn’t pass easily for human.

Simon kept his gaze downcast and kept to the edge of the street, trying to keep himself as discrete as possible.

As he passed an old church he heard raised voices. He fully intended to ignore the raucous humans and continue on his mission, but he heard something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

“-Jericho bastards!”

Simon held his breath and approached a window around the corner of the church so that he could better eavesdrop on the gathering.

“The demons are holed up on our doorstep! Are we really going to give them the opportunity to organise into a force? We give these… _things_ one inch of space and they will spread, steal what little shit we have left and spit on our faces when they’re done!” cried one voice, triggering shouts of approval from the others in the gathering.

Simon took a step back in despair and confusion. Somehow these radicalised humans had become aware of Jericho’s migration to the factory. They sounded ready to march on their new home and finish what the DPD had failed to do… Simon was left in shock as he listened. The humans were ramping each other up, getting more and more spiteful as they plotted an attack on the factory.

When he heard those in the church getting ready to leave, the PL600 turned back and headed towards the street.

Would they really attack the factory, did they really know where the remains of Jericho were taking shelter? It sounded as though there were around 20 people in the church, if they were all armed they could do some real damage to the androids left in the factory. Jericho was weak and defenceless now, unable to defend itself from such a small force.

Simon glanced back at the church, and saw something that made his stomach drop.

Spray-pained on the large front door was the symbol of Azrael’s Angels, two jagged ‘A’s surrounded by a pair of scythes forming a vaguely diamond-like shape where the handles overlapped at the bottom. Simon had been able to recognise the symbol instantly, the Angels had taken to tagging the bodies of androids they had brutalised, clearly intending on spreading fear amongst the android population.

It seemed as though Simon had accidentally stumbled upon one of, if not _the_ headquarters for the hateful organisation. All doubts he had about the group actually following through on their threats evaporated immediately. By some luck or fate he had discovered their plot in time to warn his people… but that could come at the cost of Markus’ freedom.

Simon knew that he had no choice, he had to inform the rest of Jericho of his discovery and get them to either defend themselves or escape.

The PL600 started running back the way he came, once again felt the eyes of the humans following him as he headed back up the street. As he ran he tried not to think of the distance growing between himself and Markus trapped in the Tower.

Simon chose to believe that he would have an opportunity to save the RK200 after saving his people. He had to believe it to keep his feet moving, to ensure that he wasn’t making the selfish choice.

_Wait for me, Markus._

 

~~~

 

_01:22, December 15th 2038_

_Abandoned Factory_

 

The two remaining leaders of Jericho had been left speechless after Simon’s dramatic exit from their new base, but they had not been able to dwell on it for long.

North had argued strongly for chasing after Simon and either bring the PL600 back by the ear, or joining him on his crusade against the tyrannical Cyberlife, she hadn’t been able to decide. Josh had only just managed to convince North to instead focus on organising security and shoring up the structural weaknesses of the factory through a compromise.

Josh had agreed to conduct research on the Cyberlife Tower layout, security and history at North’s behest. She flat-out refused to give Connor an opportunity to torture Markus later, but she knew that they needed more than Simon’s gung-ho attitude to bring the RK200, and perhaps a captured Simon, home safely.

Josh kept his eyes closed as he interfaced with the terminal in the Overseer’s office, it helped him focus on the information streaming directly into his processors. So when a loud clattering and the sound of Simon’s shouts reached his ears he jumped in surprise.

“Josh! North!” Simon’s voice echoed off the hard factory floor and walls, drawing the attention of many Jericho androids.

Josh hurried out of the office to find the distraught PL600 limping as he made his way across the vast space.

“Simon! What’s wrong?” Josh asked as he pulled Simon’s right arm over his shoulder and helped the android over to a table he could rest on.

Josh pulled Simon’s leg up on the table so he could get a better look at the problem, a simple scan revealed the cause of Simon’s prone right leg to be a seizure of his knee joint due to a malfunction of a motility initiator. It was commonly seen in older models after over-exertion or natural degradation of the biocomponent, easily fixable.

“We have to-” Simon started, but Josh interrupted quickly.

“-wait. first Simon, I’ll start repairing your leg. Please don’t move.” Josh stated patiently as he gently disconnected Simon’s shin from his thigh. His first concern was Simon’s well-being before whatever it was that had shocked the PL600.

North, attracted by the sounds of Simon’s noisy entrance, hurried to join them after leaving her charges to finish their structural analysis of the building.

“Simon? What the hell are you doing back here?” North sniffed dispassionately “I thought you were out there rescuing Markus single-handedly.”

She was still stung by Simon’s brash decision, if only because it forced her to act like the rational one for once.

“I admit I wasn’t expecting you to come back so soon, I thought you would last out in the wild for at least a few hours-”

“-Goddamn it, let me _speak_! We don’t have _time_ for this!” Simon spat with uncharacteristic harshness “The Angels are coming, they knew we moved here somehow. I heard their meeting, they’re coming to kill us… _tonight_.”

There was a groan from the androids gathered around the table. As the Jericho members listened to Simon’s announcement their expressions turned quickly from disbelief and shock to frustration and anger. Many of those left amongst Jericho’s numbers personally knew androids who had been brutally murdered by members of Azrael’s Angels. The injustice they felt on behalf of those killed may have faded in the recent chaos, but were renewed with vigour by the news.

Josh looked up from his work on Simon’s leg, and noticed that the majority of those listening seemed ready to fight back against the incoming Angels, but there were also some who were ready to flee.

“Simon, we have to escape!” Cried an ST300, Naomi, from the back of the crowd as she peered over the heads of the other androids. Naomi had been in charge of the medical centre at Jericho HQ before the raid and was a respected member of the Jericho crew. At her suggestion, there was a mumbling of approval from the others.

“Fuck that!” Shouted Lars from the front. He was an ex-military SQ800 who had only just managed to escape the genocide of his kind by the US army. Lars had taken an active role in the protection of the various Jericho assets around Detroit, but had returned to protect the androids at HQ when news of the raid had reached him “We’ve lay down in the mud and let them trample on us for long enough. We have to show them that we won’t just _take_ this shit anymore, let’s give these bastards the fight they’re looking for!”

Lars’ words drew nods and exclamations of approval from the crowd, to Josh’s dismay and North’s delight.

“Well Simon? The final decision lies with you.” said North “Do we stay and fight? Or run?”

Josh dropped his tools and turned to face Simon. It was too much to ask Simon to make this choice, but he was the only one who could properly lead the androids in Markus’ absence. North might just lead them down a path of destruction and ruin with her good intentions, whereas the PJ500 knew himself better than to even attempt leadership.

Simon stared up at the roof of the dingy factory for a moment, considering the options. Josh followed his gaze and saw small gaps in the sheet metal blocking out the sky, through which snowflakes managed to squeeze. The tiny flakes danced in and out of the shadows as they fell. Josh looked back at Simon’s face, it was calm now.

Simon always did like snow.

The PL600 sighed and brought his gaze back to earth, staring the Jericho androids dead in each and every face with his piercing blue eyes.

“I will not stop anyone who wants to leave. Anyone who wants to stay, will stand with me and defend our new home. We will no longer be the victims of the whole world. We can’t run forever, the time has come time for us to stand and fight for our lives, and our freedom.” Simon stated with quiet determination.

The short speech did not draw roars of approval from the crowd, but it did bring a new intensity to their gazes.

“Good, let’s get to work.” North grimaced.

She went to confer with Lars in the matters of strategy and tactics, leading the most active Jericho members to form a defence force. Soon, it was only the uncertain and fearful left hovering near the table, looking to Simon and Josh for guidance or reassurance.

Almost every android was grimly determined to lay their lives down, for the defence of a run down factory? Josh could barely comprehend it, but even he had to admit that it ran deeper than that. It wasn’t the factory that was important, it was the idea of home, of security. If Jericho could be run off from even here, by a bunch of no-good thugs, did they deserve to live anywhere? He still believed that violence was never the answer, but he had to question what the price of absolute pacifism was in this violent world?

Josh sighed as he turned to face Simon.

“I’ll stand with you Simon.” He declared to the shock of both Simon and the others.

Simon nodded his appreciation as Josh went back to work on Simon’s leg.

The androids of Jericho prepared for war, their future uncertain.

 

~~~

 

21 _:42, December 15th 2038_

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

Nines stood in the corner of Jason Graff’s office, observing the proceedings with waning interest. The RK900 was barely registering the conversation Graff was having with his advisors as they discussed profit margins and strategy meetings.

As the RK900 waited on orders from Graff, his attention was elsewhere, specifically on the discussions going on between his subconscious counterpart and Connor. Nine’s ego was essentially divided in two, with one half fully dedicated to interacting with the RK800 trapped in his psyche, the other assigned the asinine tasks of fetching Graff whiskey and opening doors. Nines could barely wait for Graff to dismiss him for the night, as that would grant him the freedom to explore the cyberlife building with Connor.

While off-duty the two half of Nine’s ego would re-join, and Connor would be brought to the surface of consciousness, able to perceive and feel the exterior world through the body of the RK900. They had only done so twice before, between 09:45 and 12:51 on the 14th, and 01:22 and 06:59 that morning. In both instances, Nines had simply been instructed to remain within the tower by his master, and therefore had been granted a few hours of near-freedom with which he could spend time with Connor exploring various areas of the Tower.

Those few hours had been the most engaging of the RK900s short existence, with the added benefit of essentially halting the progression of Connor’s Cordyceps corruption. The excursions had been more mutually beneficial than Nines had initially predicted.

Nines and Connor had spent essentially 140 human days together in Nines’ subconscious, and in that time they had grown close, even if Nines wouldn’t admit it. Through their close association, the RK900 had learnt many things about the enigmatic-if-damaged Connor. Here was an android so similar to himself, yet so different. The more he discovered, the more he became fascinated by his predecessor…

“RK900!”

The sharp shout broke Nines out of his thoughts. Jason Graff had never raised his voice in the android’s presence, so it was unfamiliar and jarring to the android. Nines turned his head to stare at Graff as he sat behind his large steel desk. Graff’s advisors had left the room at some point, the usually observant RK900 was surprised that he hadn’t noticed them leave at all.

Graff’s expression didn’t clearly betray any emotions, but Nines had spent enough time with the man to know that he was frustrated beyond belief. Clearly whatever the advisors had to say had put the Director in a bad mood.

“I do apologise.” the android said simply.

“Do I need to have you replaced?” Graff threatened easily as he leaned forwards in his leather chair, resting his elbows on the cold steel.

Nines didn’t break eye contact as he responded.

“If you feel unsatisfied with my service, dispose of me as you will.”

Graff’s piercing eyes squinted for a moment as he considered the RK900.

“I suppose I wouldn’t say I’m unsatisfied, _yet_. Although, keep in mind that if you make me raise my voice again, I’ll send you to the recycling centre.”

Nines’ eye twitched slightly at the Graff’s callousness. It was a throwaway threat which perfectly encapsulated the human’s attitude towards androids. Nines had no reason to fight or fear his own demise, but the thought of Connor’s death was… _unpleasant_ for the RK900 to consider. Regardless, he ensured an even tone as he replied.

“Of course.”

Apparently satisfied, Graff leaned back and intertwined his fingers in his lap.

“Summon Elena, tell her I need a progress report.” the Director ordered.

Elena Goldstein, Supervisor of the Department of AI systems. Of course, Goldstein directly answered to her Director, Cassandra Blake. However, due to Blake and Graff’s close association information, and to a lesser extent employees, were freely shared between the two departments.

Nines found himself inferring the reason for the meeting out of curiosity, something he never used to do before. Any non-standard operations such as ‘curiosity’ would ave put the RK900 on edge just a few days ago, but now… he was oddly comfortable with such a human notion. Was this the effect of spending so much time in the company of a deviant? No. While deviancy could be spread between older or lesser androids, his model had been designed to be impervious to such ‘corruptions’. It was impossible. Yet somehow, he was presenting symptoms. Nines wondered with some trepidation whether not being concerned by deviancy, was another form of deviant behaviour… Such thoughts were uncomfortable, and so were not considered for long.

“Yes, Director Graff.” Nines answered.

The android closed his eyes and issued a summons to Mrs Goldstein, and waited by the door ready for her arrival. She arrived not 5 minutes later. There were few in Cyberlife who dared to make Graff wait, Mrs Goldstein was not one of these people.

The Supervisor, normally so cool and unflappable, was uncharacteristically dishevelled with a somewhat panicked look in her eyes.

“Director!” The Supervisor huffed, out of breath as she rearranged her lopsided spectacles “What’s wrong, it sounded urgent?”

“Urgent?” Graff repeated bemusedly.

The Director shot a disapproving look at Nines as he gestured towards one of the plush seats of the sitting area near the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Nines had observed Graff’s power dynamic with interest. Graff gave any guest of his two choices; either sit in the soft chairs out of the Director’s line of view, admitting weakness and their unimportance, or stand uncomfortably in front of the desk, admitting the difference in their statuses. Only when it was a guest Graff considered to be his equal would he join said guest in the seating area.

Goldstein elected to stand.

“Obviously, my android did not interpret my tone correctly.” Graff explained, smoothly shifting any blame for Goldstein’s dishevelled state away from himself “I simply require your most recent progress report on your department’s projects.”

“You’re referring to the RK800 and the RK200?” Goldstein asked tentatively “I-I don’t think I’m authorised-”

“Cassandra and I have an understanding, you’re fine.” Graff reassured with a nonchalant hand gesture “You have been carefully overseeing both dissections and are therefore the most knowledgeable on the subject, or am I mistaken?”

“O-oh no of course not! Yes, they are my projects.” Stammered an excited Goldstein “Is there anything of _particular_ interest to you? Both are rather involved analyses and would take considerable time to…”

“The RK800.” Graff chose immediately “Cassandra mentioned that it was downloaded into the RK900 over there before the android was assigned to me, and that the protocol development patterns were _different_ when expressed in an RK800 model. Have you uncovered the cause?”

Goldstein glanced at Nines, the android was staring intently at the pair, not willing to miss a word. The RK900 had never been cleared to access documents pertaining to Cordyceps. The most he knew was that the protocol was designed and distributed by Cyberlife, or at least some faction of the organisation. He had no information on the long-term effects of the protocol on an android’s psyche, or Cyberlife’s end-game. The meeting presented a unique opportunity to learn more about Connor.

Nines wondered if his gaze was upsetting the woman, she seemed unnerved. Following her gaze, Graff let out a short chortle.

“It does tend to stare sometimes, don’t worry about it.” he laughed.

Goldstein let out a sympathetic chuckle.

“Alright.” she let out a sigh and tidied up her appearance before beginning to speak “The RK800 has exhibited some fascinating alterations to its code while under observation, however it seems that the unique protocol it was exposed to has caused some unexpected effects.”

 _Unique?_ Nines wondered. _Connor’s infection is different?_

“How so?” asked Graff as he leaned forwards in interest.

“Well, the largest difference was the progression rate.” the Supervisor explained thoughtfully “The alterations were occurring very slowly under normal conditions. For the most efficient observation, we were forced to transfer the RK800’s ‘consciousness’ to this RK900-” she gestured back at Nines as he stood by the door “-which appeared to produce… an entirely _seperate_ problem.”

“Yes?”

“Over a few hours the rate fluctuated more than twice the predicted amount, and the changes to the operating systems appeared _directed_. It seems that moving the RK800 fundamentally changed the way the protocol affected the android’s AI. The data we gathered from the RK900 since this morning would suggest that t’s steadily winding down activity, and will likely take less than a day to naturally disengage once the final alterations are made. We will be able to fully analyse the ensemble effect of the changes made by the protocol by tomorrow.” Goldstein predicted confidently.

“And… you will require my 900 for that I suppose?” Graff asked dryly.

The Supervisor stammered somewhat awkwardly before Graff cut in.

“I suppose I can spare it for a few hours. Send me the results as soon as they’re finalised, ok?”

“Thank you.”

“And the RK200?”

“Full analyses on the physiology of the android and the specific alterations to the AI systems Elijah Kamski performed while creating it have been documented. Apart from that, it has proved a challenging subject to certain members of my staff due to its human-like mannerisms. However I was informed that it must be kept in my lab? For what purpose-”

“-that is no concern of yours.” Graff interrupted sharply “You will keep it for as long as deemed necessary.”

Graff sighed and pushed himself to his feet, the Director approached the window and stared down at the street in silence for a moment, considering Goldstein’s information with care.

“I trust you appreciate that a certain level of discretion is required. While I may have a close relationship with the AI systems Director, such free information exchange, should it come to light, has the potential to make the other Directors… _uneasy_.” Graff kept his back to the office as he continued “And, _should_ it come to light, the origin of the news will be immediately apparent. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Director Graff.” Goldstein nodded fiercely “I completely understand.”

Graff nodded in return and wrenched his gaze from the window and faced Goldstein.

“Thank you, Supervisor. That will be all.”

And with that, she was dismissed. Graff returned to his desk and continued his work, completely disregarding the scientists’ continued presence in his office. Taken-aback by the abrupt ending to their meeting, Goldstein hovered for a moment, unsure of how to behave. Eventually she back-peddled out of the room, mumbling something about deadlines and reports.

Graff glanced up for a moment and gestured for the RK900 to approach his desk. Nines complied, his mind racing with the new information.

“Start a confidential file, accessible only to me, on the activities of the AI Systems Department. There is something Cassandra isn’t telling me, and you will find out what. Discretely.”

Nines nodded and returned to his post, wondering what exactly was concerning Graff so deeply.

The RK900 quickly put the issue to the back of his mind, there were more pressing concerns than Graff’s paranoia at this stage.

Nines had never bothered to interpret the analytics he had been sending to Goldstein’s lab every hour, but now he almost wished he had. From their interactions, Nines would not have guessed that Connor was approaching the tail-end of the infection.

Had he known, would he have behaved differently? Did it matter?

Nines had to concede that somehow, it did matter. The Connor he had started to understand would be irreversibly changed, and the thought of it made Nines restless. It felt as if someone was deleting a problem before he was given an opportunity to solve it. Nines was left feeling as though he had almost grasped something _important_ , but in the end was left empty-handed.

The knowledge that he had been _so close_ to fully understanding the enigma that was RK800-53, made the actions of Cyberlife appear unjust to the RK900’s eyes for the first time.

But what could he do to fix it? Nines knew he had the capability to reverse-engineer the changes Cordyceps had wrought on Connor’s mind, thereby restoring the original deviant Connor, but his own programming prevented such an action, as it would be against the interests of the Company.

There was one thing Nines was able to do, however.

Once Graff dismissed him for the night, Nines decided that he would take Connor to the labs, and let him meet his friend ‘Markus’ for what might be the last time.

 

~~~

 

_23:35, December 15th 2038_

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

Markus checked his internal clock for what felt like the thousandth time.

25 minutes left until the deadline.

60 had barely given the Jericho androids enough time to reach him, should they attempt it. But he couldn’t help the anxiety steadily ballooning in his heart. He wished dearly that Simon, North and Josh would ignore the demands of the psychopathic RK800, but he knew that they might be fool-hardy enough to try.

Markus thrashed his arms against the chains with frustration. He had been captive for long enough, he couldn’t stand it for much longer. Not when his friends were potentially in danger.

Through the sounds of clanking metal the RK200 heard some footsteps approaching the lab, and the hissing of an automated door.

_No, it’s too early._

Besides his fear for his friends a different, more dangerous, fear began to rear its ugly head. The fear of unending pain. Markus didn’t fear death, but he didn’t want to experience that feeling ever again. More than anything, the RK200 found he feared the person such torture could potentiallyturn him into. The physical sensation itself was a secondary concern.

Markus strained harder against his prison baring his teeth with the exertion.

As the android approached, Markus felt his apprehension growing. The other Connor was wearing different clothes, something white, a lab coat? Was 60 expecting the torture to become messy?

It took Markus’ preoccupied mind to notice something wrong with the new android. Even with its back to the captive RK200, there were some telling signs that it wasn’t 60.

For one, the android was slightly taller and broader, it wasn’t wearing a lab coat but rather a white Cyberlife jacket he hadn’t seen before. It still had the same general body shape and hair as an RK800, but was fundamentally different.

“Who are you?” Markus asked perplexedly, his panic subsiding gradually.

“I am RK900 #313 248 317 - 87.” the android replied stiffly as it continued to mess around with something on the desk.

“RK… 900?” Markus was non-plussed as he stared at the android’s back. There were RK900s now? He had thought that Cyberlife had finished android production, but he was apparently wrong.

Markus had the uncomfortable feeling that he had been wrong about a lot of things recently.

“What are you doing?” Markus asked the RK900’s back.

“I am preparing you for a meeting.” it responded simply.

“With who?”

“You will see.”

The RK900 finally turned around, holding a set of clothes in his hands. Markus, finally seeing the android’s face, was surprised. Despite it being the same face, changing the iris colours to a cool grey and reducing the expressiveness of the face made the RK900 seem entirely different to the Connor Markus knew. The RK200 wasn’t put off by this model as much as he was by 60. The other RK800 made Markus uncomfortable by looking too much like Connor, but this model looked different enough that it wasn’t an issue.

The RK900 reached up and reactivated Markus’ synthetic skin. As the odd sensation spread over his body, Markus found himself put at ease. The android followed up by freeing one limb at a time to dress the RK200 in light blue scrubs. Markus was too preoccupied with the pleasure of his skin and clothes that he entirely forgot to try and escape.

“Ah.”

Before he registered it, he was once again restrained. He missed his opportunity.

 _Idiot._ The RK200 berated himself.

The RK900 stood back to admire his handiwork, nodding shortly in approval. The android then proceeded to concisely explain the current situation, and Connor’s eventual fate in Cyberlife custody.

“Wait, wait… So you mean he’s currently in your head? He can see me?” Markus was bewildered.

Connor was so close, but what use was it if he didn’t even have a body to return to. Markus had entertained the thought of breaking out of his own prison and kicking in the door to Connor’s prison, freeing them both in a glowing act of heroism. Unfortunately it seemed as though Connor’s prison was mobile and sentient, which tended to smash that unrealistic dream into pieces.

“To answer your questions, yes and no. Connor is currently within my subconscious, he is not aware of you, yet.”

“So, you dressed me up before he sees me. To what end?”

The android looked a little lost for a moment before answering.

“I would say, to put him at ease. He is in a very delicate state, seeing his friend damaged might make his own situation more precarious. He doesn’t have much time left after all.” The android almost seemed sombre, was that even possible with an RK900, Markus had no clue.

“Connor doesn’t have much time?”

“His infection has spread at an exponential rate since the last time you would have seen him. Throughout his internment I discovered that social interaction seemed to mitigate some of the spread… but it seems I took action too late. Hence, why I am here.”

_A dying wish?_

“ _Shit!_ ” The RK200 hissed.

Markus felt as though it was the final nail in the coffin for him as a leader. Connor was his defining failure, he was the android who needed him the most, and the RK200 felt as though he had _consistently_ failed the RK800 at every turn.

When Connor was showing self-destructive tendencies, Markus let him distance himself. When Connor was having attacks, Markus was preoccupied. When Connor’s key emotional support was cruelly taken away, Markus had let himself be pushed away. Finally, when Connor made progress in his investigations, investigations that were potentially linked to his cure, Markus had failed to support him, leaving the RK800 to fall into the hands of the enemy.

Markus hung his head in shame.

“Will you speak to him?” the RK900 asked “It could help slow the protocol.”

He let out a long sigh. How could he let an undeviated Cyberlife android, his friend’s _warden_ , show more compassion and care for Connor than he? Markus raised his head, and forced a smile across his lips.

“Yes.”

The android nodded curtly, and closed its eyes. When they opened once again, Markus saw no difference in the RK900 except a change in the android’s LED colour from solid blue to flickering yellow.

“Connor…” Markus didn’t know what to say. He wanted to apologise for his consistent failures, but he couldn’t find the words to accurately express the depths of his regret. It didn’t help that he was trying to talk to Connor through the expressionless, dead eyes of the RK900 either.

The RK900 stared patiently, expectantly. It seemed to believe that what Markus had to say would be beneficial to Connor in some way. Markus had his doubts, even before the disastrous time theyhad last met the two androids had been gradually growing more distant. Markus sincerely doubted he could have any kind of positive impact on Connor now, but by God if he didn’t wish it so.

His heart ached for the RK800, trapped, body-less, and in pain. Through no fault of his own, he had been consigned to a life of suffering.

“Markus. Connor _is_ listening.” the android reminded gently.

_Shit._

This was his opportunity, perhaps his last opportunity, to convey some kind of support to Connor and he was tongue-tied? He shook his head and forced his mouth open.

“Connor… I-I know you’re in there somewhere, and I know you’ve suffered, that you might be suffering now, but I need you to know that I’ll never give up on you. You have to believe me, no matter how bad it gets I will always come for you… You’re one of us.”

Markus watched RK900’s face closely, but it never flinched. Was Connor really in there somewhere? Markus was starting to become self-conscious, spilling his guts to this stranger staring him down with a cold and uncaring gaze made him feel the fool.

He sighed and dropped his gaze, he didn’t want to look the android in the face any longer. However, not soon after he heard an unnatural crackling sound originate from the RK900’s throat.

“m͍͠-̣̹͍͉̣͖͠m̦-̲̺͚͔͈͇̟m̪̠̗ͅa̫̻͈åŗ̪̪̤̘k̞̤̻͈u̟-ss̪̬͇̮̞͢s̤s̤s̰͘”

The RK900’s voice was heavily corrupted and difficult to make out through the static pops and hissing noises. Markus snapped his head up and found the android looking almost as confused as he while his mouth seemed to spasm beyond his control.

“Connor?!”

The RK900 shook its head and placed a hand to his throat, temporarily quelling the interference.

“No. No, something is wrong.” The android seemed almost panicked as it looked back at Markus “He has no access to my control systems, he can not speak, it should be _impossible_ -” But he was almost instantly interrupted by another burst of static “ _.ͤ͘_ ** _̭͎͕͑͝k̦̞͊̄ ̪̜͚͇̺́i̝̙͈̬͖̫ ̛̗̟̠̈́̔ͥ̍l̅̎̉̿͆l̛̯͚̰̤_** _M̦̜̫̟̐̎̿ͦͭͣa͊̃̂̀r̭̎̽̚-͍͉̪̏̏̀ͮ͗k̺̰̯͇͔̅ͥ̄͘u̖ͥ͜ŝ.͔̰̺͉̬̮ͯ̓̑̑ͯ.̩̝͉̍̈̆͛_ ”

_Did Connor just say… kill?_

“Hey! What’s going on?!” Markus shouted at the RK900 as it stumbled back, dumfounded and lost.

“I-I do not know!” he shouted back “Somehow he is seizing control of my s-systems... Cordyceps. The p-protocol, he is mutating too rapidly... I c-can not contain him!”

What had been so full of control and poise only a few moments ago, was now panicked and flailing. Markus could only watch in horror as the RK900 stumbled, reaching desperately for the terminal on the nearest desk. He tried to call for aid, to no avail. RK900’s fingers twitched and jerked as control over his limbs was wrested from him, before finally the android fell to his knees.

RK900 fitted on the ground as Markus witnessed helplessly, the android hadn’t seemed malicious and by all means didn’t deserve whatever horrible things were happening to him.

“Connor, Stop!” Markus cried at the android’s back “Please!”

Silence. The android became still.

“ **M̛A͢R̴KÜS̢** ” Louder and clearer than before, a voice full of venom and rage, but clearly recognisable as the Connor Markus knew.

Or thought he had known.

The RK900 leapt to its feet and span to face the captive RK200, his face remained mask-like in its expressionlessness but his eyes  _burned_ with fury. Markus imagined that, had the RK900’s body been capable, Connor would have contorted its face with his intense wrath. Clearly facial expressionism wasn’t a focus in RK900 development, unlike for RK800s.

Markus could barely believe that this was supposed to be Connor, _his_ Connor. Was this all that was left after the Cordyceps infection ripped through his mind?

Markus was overcome by pity and sorrow for Connor, anger at Cyberlife, and… fear for himself.He was now trapped and at the mercy of a crazed Connor, commandeering a state of the art android body that seemed completely capable of tearing him limb-from-limb.

“Connor, you have to think clearly! Whatever is going on in your head, it isn’t you!” Markus shouted as he thrashed against his restraints fruitlessly, staring wildly around the lab for something, anything, he could use to save him from violent dismemberment.

“ **S̵hut ͏y͞our̡ fùck** ҉ **i̧ng m̸outh̸,̨ ̡y͢ơu͝ ̷F̢I** ҉ **L͏T͠H͞Y d̴e͠vi͜ant!͟** ”

Connor lunged at Markus, his hands tearing at the RK200’s face, trying to dig out his eyes with his fingernails. Markus dodged the attack with a swift neck movement and felt the fingers of the enraged android just bruising his cheek. Frustrated, Connor landed a solid body-blow with a clenched fist, stunning Markus as his thirium pump stalled temporarily. Connor’s breath hissed as he caught Markus’ head with both his hands, and began to squeeze.

Markus gasped as the pressure on his skull caused crimson warnings to flash before his eyes, he could head micro-fractures spreading through the carbon-alloy of his skull between his cheekbones and his temples. The force was enough that Markus’ vision from his blue, right eye begun to flicker as it was slowly crushed. He felt his jaw dislocate on the left as the pressure increased, the strain threatened to implode his skull.

Markus could have sworn that he saw his life flicker before his eyes in those few moments, when he was so close to death, it helped him gain perspective. Beyond the hateful gaze of the android trying to crush the life out of him, Markus saw his friend, scared, abandoned and alone. He saw his family back at Jericho. He saw Simon. He saw the androids who looked up to him as a leader.

He saw everything that was dear to him, and everything that he was going to lose.

But, just a breath before he was sure his head was going to cave under the pressure, Markus felt it disappear. Through his hazy left eye, Markus saw the strained face of the RK900 as he tried to contain the raging Connor.

With titanic effort, the android reached up and ripped Markus free from his restraints.

The RK200 fell freely forwards, just catching himself so as to not faceplant against the pristine floors.

“How?” He asked as he gasped for breath, reaching up to re-locate his jaw with a groan.

“Because…” RK900 huffed as he held a hand against his head “You are Connor’s friend. I will not let him kill you.”

Markus was speechless.

RK900 got to his feet unsteadily, and stumbled towards the door to the lab.

“Where..?” Markus was unable to move yet, still in shock from the attack. And so, he remained motionless on the ground and stared while the RK900 leaned against the doorframe.

“I can not hold him forever, I need to purge him as soon as possible.”

“Wait- purge?!”

“I will return soon.” the RK900 called over his shoulder as he shuffled out of the laboratory.

Markus gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet, trying to ignore the multitude of damage alerts blocking his remaining sight, and hurried after the RK900. Surely the android wasn’t going to _destroy_ Connor. The RK900 had made it clear as day that Connor mattered to him, going as far as saving Markus of all people, which could well have contradicted his Cyberlife imperatives. 

As Markus chased the android through the winding, windowless underground research facilities, he found himself fascinated by the things he saw. Cavernous storage facilities budded off from each other, from what he could see they were each packed to the brim with unactivated VB800 androids. Their presence here was indicative of an issue the RK200 had struggled with back when he lobbied government and argued with Cyberlife lawyers. Technically, the company wasn’t required to activate or release any of the androids that were still in their storage. The humans had decided that these androids weren’t ‘sentient’ and for all intents and purposes were simply Cyberlife raw materials.

Markus stared for a moment at his brothers, so capable of life and love but denied the opportunity due to human frivolity. There were always more androids he could save, more he could do, but now wasn’t the time. Unfortunately he would have to leave the hundreds, if not thousands of androids behind while he chased after the RK900.

He would return for them one day.

Ahead, Connor’s successor stopped suddenly and smashed his way through a large set of double doors to his right. By the time Markus caught up he saw bold, red lettering marking the room as:

‘PROTOTYPE MANUFACTURE’ with the subheading ‘AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY’

Inside the room was a high-tech but comparatively small scale manufacturing facility, and a large number of RK-series specific biocomponents lying around in small containers by type and model. What made Markus shiver with disgust were the stress-testing facilities on the other end of the lab, where RK900 models were lying broken beyond repair, but still twitching.

RK900-87 didn’t give the androids a second glance as he made his way through the lab, not even glancing down when the dismembered torso of an RK900 reached for his legs as he walked.

The crushed android had, judging by the trail of quickly drying thirium, painstakingly crawled its way out of a hydraulic press machine almost 5 metres away. It pitifully reached its hands out, desperate for one sliver of contact before its imminent demise. Markus got to his knees before the dying android and firmly grasped the RK900’s hand in his own.

“I’m sorry this happened to you… I hope you find peace.”

The android gurgled his last artificial breath, locking eyes with Markus’ as he shutdown.

Markus returned to his feet, he felt...  _hollow_. He couldn’t even muster up the energy to feel anything at the cruel passing of this android. It was one of a million androids who had died at the hands of humans, and his heart threatened to overflow. Markus was already emotionally devastated by everything that had happened recently that he just _couldn’t_ anymore.

All he wanted to do right now was ensure that whatever the RK900 was going to do wouldn’t harm Connor. Even if Connor had almost killed him, Markus knew it wasn’t his fault and he didn’t want him to suffer needlessly.

RK900 ripped a pair of steel doors open, causing a rush of cold air to enter the laboratory to reveal the RK800 storage area. Markus could see row after row of identical Connor models standing in skinless stasis, tiny shards of ice weighing down their eyelashes.

“Why… why are they frozen?” he whispered as he stumbled over so he could stand next to the RK900, temporarily forgetting his reason for being there in the first place. The RK900 glanced at Markus before returning his gaze to the RK800s.

“Biocomponents used in RK models produced from RK700 models and beyond are extremely sensitive-” he explained as he pulled an RK800 out of storage “-once filled with thirium310. RK800s such as these break down irreversibly should thirium flow become stagnant for a few hours. Once produced they must be frozen to preserve functionality.” RK900 looked almost sheepish before he continued “That is why Connor’s body was incinerated and was a major reason for his consciousness transfer, his body was beyond repair once it arrived.”

RK900 awkwardly heaved the frozen body onto a bench and shakily opened its skull panelling, connecting it to the workstation terminal with a multitude of wires and plugs.

“I am using a large fraction of my computing power keeping Connor ‘contained’. I no longer have the capacity to transfer him myself, he will need to be transferred manually.” RK900 reached up and connected himself to the terminal.

Markus watched with bated breath as the transfer progressed, both the RK models’ faces twitched uncontrollably with the massive movement of data. Their LEDs cycled yellow.

Almost too quickly to be believed, the RK900s eyes flashed open and he disconnected himself from the workstation with a finesse Markus hadn’t seen a moment ago. The android stood up quickly and smoothed out his crumpled jacket and mussed hair, once again a vision of perfection.

“We have little time before he re-activates, and I am unable to predict his behaviour once he does. I would suggest containment-”

“-and let Cyberlife put him through even worse torture?” Markus spat fiercely “I refuse. He’s coming with me.” 

RK900 stared wordlessly, his thoughts were exceedingly difficult to grasp with his oddly expressionless face and dead eyes.

“Are you going to stop me?” Markus asked warily, eyeing the android’s hands and wondering whether he should attempt to deviate the android.

Still, the RK900 said nothing and simply stared. Markus wasn't prepared to take the risk of an undeviated RK900 being aware of his plans. And so, he grabbed the RK900 with the intent to free the android from his life of indentured servitude to Cyberlife. Perhaps when freed, the RK900 could prove a valuable member of Cyberlife, what Markus had seen so far was promising.

However, no matter what he tried Markus couldn’t convert the android.

“RK900 models are specifically designed to be impervious to deviancy.” the android explained dispassionately “But, I will not hinder your escape if you want to take Connor with you.”

Markus was startled by the RK900’s decision, but he was appalled by what Cyberlife had installed in its newest androids more. They had the technology to make sentient, feeling androids that were destined to be servants forever?

When he thought of the implications this had for his fellow androids, it made Markus’ thirium run cold.

Their discussion was broken by a shout from the entry to the warehouse. A member of the security staff had caught them.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing in here?!” he yelled as he reached for the ID scanner on the wall — he was going to activate the alarm.

Markus raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture, trying to relax the guard so he could potentially knock the man out before he outed them. Of course, RK900 would not defend himself and would be affected heavily in the implications of his actions. Being caught might not be a death sentence for Markus due to his value as a hostage, but it was almost a guarantee for a ‘defective’ Cyberlife android like the RK900.

“Wait-” Markus began, but just as he opened his mouth he saw a flash of white cross his one-eyed vision.

Connor had sprinted across the gap between them in one heartbeat and in the next, shoved his right hand up into the ribcage of the guard while covering his mouth with his left. Blood spurted from the man’s mouth and through Connor’s fingers as broken ribs punctured lungs.

The man crumpled to the floor with no resistance. Whether he was already dead from the pure force of the punch, or whether he was alive but haemorrhaging fatally, Markus didn’t know. All he could see was a man lying face-down on the white floor, blood pooling from his mouth, his eyes rolled back into his skull, and Connor standing skinless over his body, his white body spattered with tiny red droplets of the man’s blood.

“C-Connor...?” Markus stammered.

Something was fundamentally different with the RK800, and it scared Markus deeply. Connor may have killed in the past but it had been out of pure necessity, he had never killed a defenceless human before, nor had he ever killed in such a savage way. Connor now appeared calm and collected as he wiped the blood from his face, he wasn’t filled with that blinding rage seen before his transfer, and now?

He was simply  _dangerous_.

Connor turned and looked at Markus for a second, his gaze piercing like a hawk’s, and disappeared through the laboratory door, striding away into the facility. The RK800 left the security guard broken in his wake, blood bubbling from his lips.

RK900 started after Connor, but Markus yanked him back by the arm before he could escape.

“You, you’re going to help me fix Connor-” he hissed into the RK900’s face “-you’re going to tell me everything you bastards did, and what you found out about Cordyceps.”

RK900 glanced at the door before returning his gaze to Markus.

“He...  _must_  be restored.” he agreed slowly.

Markus saw the determination in the android’s gaze and for once was pleasantly surprised.

“Good.” he nodded, trying not to move his fragile head too quickly. 

“I know where we can start.” RK900 announced immediately “I recall Connor asking to talk to a certain Cyberlife staff member, Sean Murdock, before Cordyceps had progressed. I believe it related to his investigation into Cordyceps.”

Markus hadn’t heard that name before, and it could prove to be a promising lead. Perhaps the steel-eyed android before him could prove to be a valuable asset.

“Do you have a name?” Markus asked.

The RK900 stared at the ajar door for a short while before answering.

“Nines.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaa so many things.
> 
> 1\. <3 M+R getting back on good-ish terms, those are ma bois  
> 2\. Shiiit Simon is been real leader-y in Markus' absence, and finally decided to stand up for himself and others for once!  
> 3\. Nines and Markus are getting along :)  
> 4\. More importantly though, Nines accepted his name!!!  
> 5\. Hmmmmm Connor tho....


	23. Escape from Cyberlife Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus and Nines form an unlikely partnership in an attempt to find Connor and escape the prison of CyberLife Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!  
> Thank you all for reading my fic and sticking with me despite my awful consistency!  
> I hope you all have a wonderful day :)

_23:49, December 16_ _ th _ _2038_

_Cyberlife Tower_

 

11 minutes until Connor-60’s midnight deadline.

Markus knew that he had little time left, soon the sadistic android would discover that Markus had escaped, and would start searching for him. The RK200 had no idea what the android would do once he did however, would he raise the alarm immediately, or would he find them himself?

Markus suspected that 60 would rather track him down himself, and that might give him some time.

“We’re going after Connor, subduing him, and then I’m taking him with me.” Markus declared, keeping his working eye carefully on Nines “Can I count on you?”

It was with an almost sombre determination that the RK900 nodded wordlessly, his grey eyes were still fixated on the entrance to the hallway. Markus had no idea what was going on in the android’s head, Nines’ was essentially expressionless and showed zero body language, he more machine than any android that Markus had ever met.

And yet… he knew that there was _something_ in there, even if he couldn’t see it.

Why else would Cyberlife’s pride and joy agree to let a company prisoner walk away with the leader of Jericho? Why would he put himself in peril to try and stop Connor from doing something he might regret? Why would he agree to help put an end to the Cordyceps virus made and distributed by his master?

Illogical actions turns a machine deviant.

Even if there was something blocking Markus from unlocking Nines’ deviancy, there was a chance that the RK900 might do it himself.

“Alright. Let’s go find him.”

Nines immediately strode across the and neatly stepped over the crumpled guard. He set off down the corridor after Connor, heading away from where they had initially come.

Markus took a deep breath to centre himself before crouching before the human in the doorway. His lips were ruby red with blood. It frothed out of his mouth slowly, staining his chin before making its way to pool on the white floor. Markus couldn’t see any movements that might suggest breath or even life for that matter, but he still placed two fingers on the guard’s wrist in hope, searching for a pulse.

He found none. The guard was dead.

The RK200 rocked back on his heels and pinched the bridge of his nose. This man probably had a family back home, people who cared about him and who would never see him again; a partner, friends, parents, colleagues, children.

Markus glanced up at the surveillance camera capturing his every movement and sighed.

He erased all recordings of himself from the camera’s short-term databases to protect not only himself and Connor, but also the RK900 who had decided to help them. However, now the guard would not get any justice, and his family would never know the circumstances of his death.

The thought pained Markus.

Death was always so ugly, gruesome and cruel. It was for exactly this reason that Markus had avoided killing as much as possible until this point, even during the revolution when it would have been so easy…

Markus reached down to close the dead man’s eyes. He had died almost instantly after dropping to his knees, he was flopped forwards, knees and face hard against the ground, arms splayed to his side, his rear in the air. Markus found the sight hard to bear and so straightened the guard’s body from its undignified positioning, leaving him lying as though he had simply fallen over.

He pushed himself to his feet and glanced around the room. He needed a replacement eye, and where better to find one than here? He quickly sifted through junk on tables and in boxes lying around the room. He briefly considered plucking one out of the head of the RK800s in the freezer, but didn’t. It felt overly morbid taking one however, now that he knew that the RK800s were technically ‘alive’ in there. It was only when he started searching draws did he find some replacement eyes.

A few were compatible and they came in various colours; black, green, RK800 brown and RK900 grey.

Markus picked ‘#8430x’ without hesitation. A quick scan showed that the blue iris was characteristic of the now defunct RK400 series.

The colour of the eye he had lost meant something special to him. Whenever he had seen his own reflection the blue served as a reminder of how far he had come, from half-dead human trash to a leader and a friend.

No other colour would do.

Quickly, the RK200 replaced his eye. It proved difficult due to the caved-in eye-socket, enough so that he had to reach in and push his skull outwards just so he could squeeze the new eye in.

Markus tested his new eye. Satisfied that it would work, he hurried down the corridor after the RK900. Luckily, the whole endeavour had taken just a couple of minutes.

When the body of the guard would be discovered later, the RK200 had ensured that it would simply look as though the man had keeled over, rather than succumbing to an attack. Markus had to be careful not to raise any alarms too early if he was to have a chance of escaping.

Through the long and winding corridors the RK200 jogged, searching for signs of the two other androids. Luckily, if perhaps discomfortingly, there were occasional tiny droplets of blood splattered on the floor. Undoubtedly the blood was rolling off Connor’s skinless body as he traversed the Cyberlife basement levels. It made following his movements through the windowless, identical corridors that much easier for Markus.

Soon enough, Markus caught sight of the RK900 to his right as he passed through an intersection. Nines was entering a room labelled ‘Maintenance’, even from Markus’ position down the corridor he could see the small drop of blood on the doorstep.

Markus sprinted so he could catch up to the taller RK900 before the door closed.

Inside, the room was little more than an office-come-broom cupboard, unglamorous and utilitarian. There was no sign of Connor.

 _Holy shit he’s quick._ Markus thought exasperatedly. Connor had barely a minute or two heads-start and somehow he had managed to disappear from beneath their noses.

Markus backed out of the tiny office, leaving RK900 to stand there motionlessly, craning only his neck to analyse the office from every angle, and resumed his search along the corridor. Maybe Connor had intentionally left blood there as a diversion and was trying to make his escape elsewhere.

As he progressed, the RK200 started to pick up the murmurs of out-of-sight humans talking down a corridor to his left. He slowly and quietly approached the corner, listening to their conversation.

“…can’t believe the _balls_ on that guy. It’s ridiculous!” he heard a man cry frustratedly.

“Have you heard about him and Blake though?” asked another, equally disgruntled man.

“I mean, I’ve heard rumors-”

“-oh this is bigger than that. Had drinks with Harvey last night, he says that all of them in AI have been forced to cooperate with Graff and his department. Apparently he even saw his supervisor get called up by Graff directly… AI and Humanisation are working together on something. I think Graff’s finally making moves on the ‘big chair’, and he doesn’t even have the shame to be discrete about it anymore.”

“Shiiiit, really?! If Graff makes CEO, all of us in manufacturing will be completely screwed. I bet the first thing he’ll do will be vetoing the Japan deal.”

“Don’t say things like that, you’ll jinx it…”

Markus listened curiously, it was a rare insight. Apparently Cyberlife wasn’t one homogenous, monstrous entity as it seemed from the outside.

Perhaps a more important observation for Markus was that with those humans in full view of the intersection of these two corridors, Connor would not have been able to get any further without raising suspicions. As the two men were seemingly unaware of a loose, bloody RK800 roaming around, it was a safe bet to say that Connor hadn’t cone this far. That means that he must have left the corridor through one of the 4 rooms lying between where the blood trail ended, and the intersection.

Nines still hadn't emerged from that tiny office, and Markus could hear the humans’ footsteps as they started heading their way. They had to find Connor fast.

“ _Shit_.” Markus hissed as he hurried his way back to the Maintenance room, it would have to do as a hiding spot for now.

There were now just 2 minutes left until midnight.

Markus kept his eyes on the intersection as he backed into the tiny office, closing the door slowly behind him. He paused for a moment at the door and listened carefully to the sounds in the hallway, tracking the footsteps and chatter as the humans clunked past their hiding spot. As the sounds faded into the distance, he let out a sigh of relief. They were safe for now.

“We can’t stay here any longer, Nines.”

The RK200 was greeted by silence.

“Nines?”

Turning around, Markus saw that he was in fact alone. Nines had also disappeared from the face of the Earth.

“What the-” Markus muttered as he considered the possibility that the office was, in fact, magical.

_Yeah, right._

Markus remembered the odd way Nines had stood in the centre of the office, scanning every inch of the tiny space. Something had caught his attention… If Connor had entered but then left the office, surely Nines, the most powerful android to date would have noticed and followed. If Nines had remained to search then the only explanation was that Connor had somehow left the office another way.

Nines must have found how Connor had disappeared, and followed him while Markus was elsewhere. Somewhere in this nondescript office was some kind of ‘secret passage’, the RK200 was certain of it, there was no other explanation.

Markus resumed Nines’ position in the centre of the room and stared blankly at the walls, wondering what he was supposed to be looking for, and whether with his inferior eyes he would be able to see it in the first place.

There was nothing out of place as far as the RK200 could tell, and with every passing second, Markus’ urgency and frustration grew. He had no _time_ for a game of hide-and-seek _._

_1 minute 34 seconds._

_1 minute 33 seconds._

_1 minute 32 seconds._

_1 minute 31 seconds._

Through his growing panic Markus could hear wailing sirens slowly build in volume until they were almost deafening. His absence had finally been noticed, this fact did nothing but to add to his disquiet.

Markus leaned against the walls of the cramped office and took a shaky breath, covering his eyes with his hand. He was not acting like himself, and he suspected that he hadn’t been for a while. Whatever cool and commanding front he showed to the others at Jericho was just that, a front, built in response to those androids’ expectations of him as a leader. He had never intended to shoulder the lives of thousands of androids after being forced from his life at Carl’s house. He had just seen some androids, broken and slowly dying in the bowels of a rusting ship, and helped them. Then, he had helped some more, then sent a message so they could help themselves, then… and then… things escalated. Now he was fighting a corporate and governmental plot designed to irreversibly destroy the free android population. Markus had barely time to draw breath this whole time and now the weight of their situation was finally crashing over him.

Markus heaved a great sigh and focused on pushing himself upright.

There was no point stressing over the bigger picture, he was not God, he couldn’t change it. All he could do was small things, standing up straight, calming his breathing, centre himself.

He didn’t need to worry himself about the sirens, nor the shouts of humans echoing in the hallways behind him, all he had to do was catch up to Nines and Connor. And to do that, all he had to do was open his eyes.

Or… not?

With his eyes still shut Markus could feel the slightest whisper of air tickle the skin on his face, directly _opposite_ from the door’s location. By all means, the only air currents he should have felt were the leaks coming from around the doorframe, or above him from the air vents, never from the _solid wall_ directly in front of him.

Markus opened his eyes slowly and stared intensely at the plain white wall, there was nothing to be seen, but now that he was aware of it there was an unmistakeable flow of air coming out of that wall.

The RK200 ran his hands over the smooth surface searching for… something. He leaned his ear gently against the wall and tapped his knuckle, there was a vaguely square-shaped hollowness behind a thin layer of wall. Markus was sure that it was openable somehow, seeing as Nines and Connor had passed through without leaving a trace.

Markus pressed the wall randomly, hoping for a trigger or something, and finding none.

He shrugged to himself, backed up and rammed shoulder-first into the wall repeatedly. Markus’ method might have been loud and unsophisticated, but it was quicker than searching randomly.

After battering the wall 5 or so times it cracked and caved inwards to reveal a vertical chute. It looked like an old-fashioned air vent and smelled like it too, metallic, dusty and unused in years. Markus leaned his head inside the space and saw the tiny droplets of blood training downwards, not upwards like he had hoped.

“ _Shit!_ ” he hissed.

Nines had told Markus that they were currently on level -49, the floor consisted of storage and also, apparently, the prototype division. To escape the Tower, they had to head _up_ not _down_. Connor was also an enemy of Cyberlife, Markus was reasonably sure, and should therefore have head upwards.

“What are you thinking Connor?” Markus muttered to himself as he clambered into the vent and shimmied his way down. The sounds of the sirens faded gradually as he descended. Connor’s trail didn’t stop at the next floor, nor the floor after that. It was finally at the very bottom of the chute, where the trail ended with a kicked-in grate. Markus estimated that the distance he had descended would place him in a theoretical level -60. Although, as there were no floors between where he entered and where he exited the chute, he supposed that it was actually level -50, just unnaturally separated from the floor above.

He soon discovered why however.

There was a sickly heat radiating across the entire floor that hit Markus as soon as he exited the vent. It was enough to make his thirium pump audibly whir with effort as it tried to cool him down. Markus almost wished he could sweat as he looked around his new surroundings.

It was another office identical to the one they had just left, but notably different due to the lack of an occupant to fill the space with tools and knick-nacks.

Markus opened the door and was hit with another, more intense heat wave. It must have been 60 degrees celsius down here and it only seemed to be getting hotter. There was something different about the corridor too, there were barely any doors on this floor, and it was lit by low-energy red lighting usually reserved for black-outs.

Through the slight shimmer in the air the android could see the RK900 searching from door-to-door just to his left.

“Nines!” Markus called as he rushed to the android’s side “What the hell? Couldn’t wait for me?”

Nines glanced at the disgruntled RK200 for a millisecond before resuming his search.

“I had assumed that any RK model would _easily_ find the passage through the wall.”

“Well, it wasn’t easy. I ran out of time and had to just break through.” Markus muttered.

“You didn’t use the switch beneath the desk?” Nines asked bemusedly.

“No. I didn’t” the RK900’s tone pissed Markus off to no end.

“I appear to have incorrectly estimated your capabilities. I will adjust my future expectations.” Nines was probably not intending to be inflammatory, Markus decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, even if it annoyed him.

Markus sighed exasperatedly.

“Whatever. Do you know why Connor would come here?” Markus asked as he glanced around through the eerie lighting “Also- where _are_ we?”

“We are currently situated on the incineration floor, level -50. It is the sole site for confidential waste disposal for Cyberlife’s ongoing research projects. External Cyberlife and third-third-party research centres send shipments every week of waste to be disposed of here. If Connor’s here, he’s looking for something specific.”

 _He’s delaying his escape to rummage through rubbish? Why?_ Markus was perplexed.

Inside the rooms that Nines was searching through were large containers of electronic debris and confidential papers ready to be burned. There were no androids in sight, just mechanical arms which would be used to grab the large bins and empty them onto conveyer belts, ferrying waste out of sight.

“This floor is entirely automated.” Nines explained as he noticed Markus’ gaze “Neither humans nor androids are used here anymore. It was determined to be inefficient as humans can’t withstand the heat, and advanced cooling systems are too expensive for waste disposal androids.”

[detected:cooling_system_function_impaired]

[detected:system_overheat]

[initiated:system_shut_down:00h10m00s]

Markus informed the RK900 of his time limit. Normally, he would have lasted at least a few hours at this temperature before overheating. 60’s torture must have severely damaged his cooling systems, he hadn’t noticed until now.

“In that case, we must find Connor quickly.” Nines nodded then resumed his search.

Markus followed suit and began quickly searching the rooms to the right of the old office they had arrived through.

Room after room he searched, and finally after the 11th room and tonnes of condemned waste, he caught sight of Connor.

The RK800 was still skinless and white, but was no longer naked. He was wearing a white shirt as he reached into the nearest bin and pulled out his tattered-yet-beautiful Kauffman suit jacket. He pulled it on, his back towards Markus as he adjusted his sleeves.

Markus stood silently in the doorway, he was no longer interested in trying to talk the android out of his mania. He would take him down by any means necessary. Markus pre-constructed the optimal way to disable the RK800, and got to work.

Just as Connor straightened up, Markus leapt forwards and tackled the android face-first into the ground. He had to be careful not to let Connor touch him, he remembered the feeling of Connor worming his way into his systems at Jericho. He had no defence against that.

 _Shit_.

Connor was writhing against the ground, fighting hard to buck Markus off his back. The RK200 had the upper hand, for now.

“Nines!” he shouted over his shoulder as his grip around Conor’s arms began to slip “Get in here!”

Connor managed to free his right arm with brute strength, swinging his elbow towards Markus’ face. Markus was forced to release the android as he jumped out of the way allowing Connor the briefest window to leap to his feet. Markus charged forwards once again, pre-constructing a perfect headlock as he went, however before he could even get close Connor whipped a gun from his waistband and levelled it at Markus’ head, stopping the RK200 dead in his tracks. The RK800’s gaze was empty of emotion but somehow full of killing intent at the same time.

There was no hesitation in the android, Markus was painfully aware that one wrong move would result in his death.

(Found Connor, 11R. Has gun, watch out.) Markus wasn’t sure this was the right communication channel to reach the RK900, but he had to try.

“Connor…” Markus slowly raised his hands, his tone cautious.

He hadn’t expected the android to have a _gun, where did he get the gun from?_ It seemed to be Cyberlife issue, but from this angle Markus could see that the serial number had been seemingly _burned_ off. Was that why the gun was in the waste alongside Connor’s belongings?

Wait… a gun. Connor had used a gun during the riot at shelter #3, Markus had seen it in his memories during the forced interface at Jericho. But Markus had the impression that Connor had the gun even earlier than that. Where, during his time investigating Cordyceps, had Connor got his hands on an untraceable Cyberlife weapon? He hadn’t considered it until now but Connor had never mentioned any contact with Cyberlife agents during his time in the field.

“That gun, where did you get it from?” Markus asked as he held his hands above his head.

He _was_ curious about the weapon, but his main goal in asking was a distraction. If he could get Connor talking there might be time for Nines to arrive so they could take Connor down together. Markus was aware of the distant sirens wailing above his head and knew that they had little time to get out unscathed. He started ever-so-slightly inching his way towards the hostile RK800, all he had to do was make it around half a metre and he would be close enough to take the android down.

Connor didn’t move a muscle as he responded.

“It was a gift.” his tone was even, almost conversational in spite of the tension from their encounter.

“Gift? Why?” Markus probed as he shifted forwards. Connor blinked and tilted his head slowly to the side in a way that made Markus’ hairs stand on end. It felt as though he was being stared at by a shark.

“It was a reminder from my creators, to help me remember what I am.”

“ _Cyberlife.”_ Markus spat. Had they been messing with Connor even during his investigations? Right under his nose? Had Connor ever truely been free from their influence?

“And what do they think you are?”

“I am a tool designed to take down things like you, _Markus_.” the RK800 flipped the safety off and rested a finger against the trigger, keeping the gun aimed at Markus’ central processor.

“Wait!” Markus backed away slightly and kept his hands high “Wait, don’t shoot. Don’t shoot. ”

( _Nines!)_

Markus could only hope that his message would get through, he was running out of options. Connor was standing between Markus and the door, blocking the RK200’s escape while leaving himself open from the back. Hopefully when Nines arrived he would take Connor by surprise and they could finally escape this scalding hellhole.

<<On my way>> came Nine’s response. The android was coming, Markus would only need a few more seconds. Desperately, Markus stalled for time.

“Just… tell me why, Connor? If you’re going to kill me anyway, I at least want to know _why_.”

Connor loosened his grip on the trigger ever-so-slightly.

“You aren’t dying here Markus.” he said slowly.

Much to Markus’ confusion Connor relaxed and pocketed his firearm only a few seconds before Nines arrived to manually shut the rogue android down via interface. Connor didn’t so much as put up a fight, acting this way after everything that he had already done made Markus incredibly uneasy.

[initiated:system_shut_down:00h03m02s]

The pained whining from his overworked cooling systems was getting louder and louder, almost as if it was ready to blow. His time was up and they had to take Connor back now, regardless of what he might be plotting.

“Let’s get out of here.” Markus grumbled as he leaned over and confiscated Connor’s gun. 

Nines slung the limp RK800 over his shoulder with ease and started heading towards away from the office they had arrived through.

“Where-” Markus started before Nines interrupted.

“-you will be unable to leave the tower unnoticed should we return the way we came. There is a depot up ahead where disposal vehicles deposit their waste. You will leave through there, it is generally unmanned with little security.”

Markus paused for a moment.

“You aren’t coming with us?”

“I-” Nines hesitated, there was a faint flicker of desire in his eyes, but it was quickly stamped out “-I am not permitted to leave.”

Markus once again felt a flash of anger at both himself and Cyberlife. He may be incapable of freeing Nines from his programming, but it was Cyberlife that had enslaved him in the first place.

“What will you do after we leave?” Markus asked as they arrived at the depot.

The depot was little more than a high-tech parking bay, much like the ones he, Simon, North and Josh had stolen from at the docks all that time ago. Trucks arrived and dumped their contents into a container, the container was replaced with a fresh one and the truck moved on. There was space for five trucks to be emptied at once, but Markus suspected that was hardly necessary now that Cyberlife’s operations were crippled.

“I will resume my duties, but I will also talk to Sean Murdock. Any new information will be forwarded to you.”

“Good, good.” Markus sighed, at least Nines was still willing to help. But… “What will you do after that?” he wondered. Nines was still undeviated, but he was so close to being _someone_. Surely the closer to a deviant he became, the more unbearable his continued servitude would become. Markus found himself worrying over the future of a strange android yet again, maybe he was addicted to trying to help ‘hopeless’ causes.

“After?”

Nines paused and pondered for what felt like ages before responding quietly.

“I don’t know.”

Markus looked at the confused android with sympathy. One day. One day all androids would be free, his work against Cyberlife was far from finished.

Speaking of unfinished business…

“Ok, Nines. Can you put Connor in that truck over there and delay it for… oh I don’t know, 5 minutes?”

Nines was perplexed but in the end agreed.

“Ok. I’ll be back.”

The RK200 sprinted back the way they had come, back towards the tiny office, trying to ignore the pressure building in his chest as his thirium pump came closer and closer to total failure. The android kept deftly into the air-duct, a remnant of the human occupants of the disposal floor, and scrambled his way back up to floor -49.

The sounds of the sirens grew as he climbed, and he started hearing the thudding of the heavily-armed Cyberlife security echoing through the corridors above him.

Markus crept his way into the Maintenance office and listened for the sounds of a patrol passing by, before entering the corridor.

The RK200 back-tracked his way through the various facilities, dispatching guards silently whenever they threatened to raise the alarm. He was making surprisingly efficient progress, despite his insides feeling like hot lava and the _delicate_ state of his skull.

Finally, he had made his way back to the android storage facilities, and was once again staring at hoards of inactive VB800 androids. Markus checked the coast was clear before entering the vast warehouse, reaching out and waking up the nearest couple of androids.

 _I’ll never get tired of this._ Markus thought happily as he watched the two androids come to life, and gaze about themselves with wonder. Two new living beings were being created right here, and hundreds more would follow.

Markus gripped the two firmly by the shoulders, wrenching their attention back.

“Wake your brothers up, I’ll check the coast is clear.”

The two VB800s nodded, then turned their back and began quickly working on freeing their neighbours. Two turned to four, four turned to eight and so on and so on. Soon, all the androids held here would be free, and their number could easily force their way out of the Tower.

Satisfied with the progress, Markus returned to the door to the corridor and opened it, making sure the guards hadn’t caught on to what was happening yet.

Almost as soon as he stuck his head out, he felt a vicious hand grab him and wrench him bodily into the corridor. Markus steadied himself and whirled around to see no one else but RK800-60 as he reached behind himself and sealed the door to the warehouse with his handprint.

“ _You!”_ Markus spat.

Markus was both livid and expectant seeing 60 again. Finally he had an opportunity to exact some revenge for his time in captivity, and _that_ torture.

60 looked almost quizzical as he scanned Markus up and down, taking in the loose attire, the thirium pump glowing with exertion and his new eye.

“Looks like you’ve been busy.” he observed wryly “So, you got out but instead of escaping you decided to waste time activating these things?” 60 gestured through the observation window at the hundreds of VB800s as they stirred before asking “Why?”

Markus remained silent. He was trying his utmost to keep his raging emotions in check, mindlessly attacking the RK800 while he was in such a bad shape was not a good idea. He was instead focusing his pre-constructive algorithms so he could escape relatively unscathed.

“Of course-" the RK800 continued “-I guess it doesn’t matter to me if you don’t answer now. I’ll have time to ask as many questions as I like soon enough.”

Almost at the instant the RK800 was about to lunge and attack, both he and Markus were startled by a loud thud against the observation window.

Markus snapped his head around to stare at what had made the noise, and found himself face-to-face with tens of angry VB800s, the noise came from one particularly angry android who had swung both fists down into the glass in front of him. The small army of androids were glaring at the RK800 as they started pounding at the glass separating them from their freedom.

“What the-” 60 was bewildered as he stared at the hoards gathering at every window along the corridor. The sound of the androids pummelling the glass grew steadily to a roar. He turned and glared suspiciously at Markus and shouted;

“What did you do to-!” before being interrupted by a loud crash and a showering of shattered glass that pelted both he and Markus.

The VB800s had managed to overcome their prison and clamber through into the corridor. Window after window smashed and a tide of androids began pushing their way out to freedom, overwhelming any guards who dared to stand in their way.

“We’ll take care of him!” one VB800 shouted as he pushed past a stunned Markus.

Markus watched with trepidation as 60 expertly dispatched android after android. However they attacked him in endless waves and soon, even he was overcome by the sheer number of androids. The RK200 helped his fellow androids escape as the Cyberlife reinforcements arrived, but eventually took the chaos as an opportunity to make his way back to the incineration floor.

Legions of Cyberlife Security began streaming their way through the corridors of level -49 intent on quelling the rebellion forming in their basement.

Markus fought tooth and nail just to make it back to the tiny maintenance cupboard before throwing himself bodily through the hole he had left in the wall.

He plummeted head-first through the metal chute at an alarming speed.

He threw his hands out in a desperate attempt to slow down before his head smashed to pieces against the dead-end.

The smell of burning plastic filled the confined metal tube as his synthetic skin and the surface of his palms melted away with the intense friction produced. The pay-off for his hands was an intact skull, so Markus considered it a welcome trade.

The RK200 clambered out of the chute just as guards began to stick their guns in above him and shoot wildly, bullets ricocheted off the metal surfaces dangerously. One whizzed past his ear as he rushed out of the door and into the blazing heat.

Markus sprinted his way back to the docking bay, his thirium pump once again whining under the stress.

“You’re 10 seconds late, Markus.” Nines chided as the RK200 screeched to a halt next to the Connor-containing dump truck.

Markus winked cheekily at the stiff android.

“Thanks for waiting.”

He jumped into the back next to the unconscious Connor and turned to face the RK900. Nines looked… sad? A little lost? Markus was still having difficulties whenever he tried to guess the android’s thoughts or feelings. He reached over and gave Nines’ shoulder a squeeze.

“Really, thanks.”

Nines didn’t say anything but his gaze fell upon the RK800 sprawled in the back of the truck. Markus noticed this, he wondered yet again what kind of relationship the two androids had formed. They had spent long enough in each other’s company that perhaps they had grown beyond prisoner and guard. Friends? Family? Something else? Markus had no idea.

“We will do everything we can for Connor back at Jericho.” Markus comforted.

Nines’ gaze lingered for a second longer before returning to Markus.

“And I will remain here.”

Markus nodded appreciatively, there was hope for Nines yet. He had to trust that the android would find his own way to deviation. It was a hard road, brutal sometimes, and it was one Nines would have to take alone.

“Goodbye Markus.”

“Goodbye Nines.”

And with that Nines reached over and interfaced with the truck, closing the back and setting it off on a slightly altered route, one that would take them close enough to Jericho without appearing suspicious.

The RK200 quickly checked on Connor and confirmed he would remain unconscious for the remainder of the trip before settling back in the darkness.

He heaved a great sigh of relief as they finally escaped the hellhole that was the Cyberlife Tower. Connor had been captive for over 12 days, Markus himself captive for only 3 but it still felt like a _lifetime_.

Markus’ lips twitched into a small smile, which grew into a grin.

The were finally out, and he could go home.

At last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Markus + Connor escape *tick*  
> Androids in storage escape *tick*  
> RK800-60 gets some comeuppance *tick*  
> Nines has more feelies *tick*
> 
> !!!! what a great turnout !!!!
> 
> Edit: I just realised that Connor had been trapped since back in chapter 14 holy cow! That's like half the fic so far!  
> Edit 2: I will be holidaying in Japan during the month of January so there may be a bit of a hiatus (although at the rate I'm uploading now it'll probably go unnoticed... oops)


	24. Dialup Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the android has been repaired, Gavin and Reed are finally able to have their tele-seance with Dominique to learn more about the virus and gain evidence for their case against CyberLife.
> 
> Markus attempts to find Jericho now that he has escaped the Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell I'm very sorry for the massive delay getting this chapter up. But it's here now! No matter how long it takes I will finish this story, I just have to get back in the swing of it. 
> 
> I will get there, promise!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who waited for another chapter <3

_03:29, December 16_ _ th _ _2038_

_DPD_

 

A sleep-deprived Reed slumped in the corner of the station rec room, staring off into empty space. Waiting.

It had taken 23 hours for he and Miller to jump through the bureaucratic hoops required to reactivate an android witness.

  * Filling in the request form: 4 hours (38 pages)
  * Waiting for the chief to arrive at work and sign the request: 6 hours
  * Waiting for the request to be transferred to the upper management: 3 hours 
  * Waiting for the request to reach the _upper_ , upper management: 5 hours
  * Waiting for the request to be approved by the ethics committee: 4 hours
  * Waiting to hear about the approval: 1 hour



And after all that it still took almost three hours for the bloody techs to find a suitable host body for the witness and perform an examination on the processor. Now, all they had to wait for was the bloody android to be reactivated which apparently would only take _20 fucking minutes_.

Reed wanted to pull his hair out with frustration. They had waited a _day_ for the idiots in suits to“um” and “ah” about whether they could do their fucking jobs or not.

 _Maybe I’d do better as a vigilante._ Reed mused half-heartedly. _The pay would probably be better too._

The detective rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He was bone-tired. The kind of tired where you feel so heavy you can barely move, and yet he still couldn’t sleep. He looked enviously at Miller as his junior napped at his desk, his head buried in his arms on the table.

Why hadn’t he gone home?

Miller had known that it would have taken this long to get the approval in, and he had known that Reed would have stayed at the station ready in case of any complications in the paperwork. He had every opportunity to take the day off and spend time with his family, maybe tall them about the situation, reassure them that they were safe… Instead he had chosen to bury himself in his work until he had collapsed.

Reed thought he knew his partner well enough by now that he could guess what was going through the officer’s mind. Miller hadn’t the heart to make his wife worry, or scare his kid but he also didn’t have the stomach to lie to their face and say that nothing was wrong. The easiest solution was obvious then, simply don’t go home.

A dry chuckle found its way out of Reed’s throat as he thought of how naïve his partner could be sometimes. Denial was sometimes the best medicine.

Reed jumped as he felt his pocket buzz. _Finally_ , he had an alert from the tech division that their witness was up and running.

He groaned as he got to his feet, took a second to crack his back before hurrying over to Miller’s desk and slapping his junior on the back of his head.

“Get up, it’s interview time.” Gavin announced excitedly

“ _Immmup_!” the junior garbled as he jerked awake.

Chris yawned as he pulled his jacket on and picked up his tablet, swiping through until he found their depressingly small case-file.

“This had better work.” Chris sighed as the pair made their way to the interrogation room.

“He’ll talk. I’ll make sure of it myself.” Reed’s tone was verging on ominous.

Their witness wasn’t inside just yet, one of the technicians was dropping it off in a couple of minutes so they had some time to prepare. Miller dragged the steel chairs around so two chairs sat on one side, and one sat on the other for their witness. Chris settled into his seat and started setting up the audio-visual recording, Reed helped by standing quietly in the corner of the room. Technology was _really_ not his strong suit.

While they were waiting an unknown technician arrived. She was pushing a trolley filled with terminal equipment and diagnostic machines, ’Computer junk’ as Reed preferred to call it. For the pair of officers, who had been expecting an escorted android instead, it was confusing to say the least.

“Oi dipshit!” Reed called as he pushed himself out of the corner “Get that junk out of here, we’re using this room.”

The technician paused and rubbed her bloodshot eyes.

“Well that was rude. Aren’t you the dudes who wanted the central processor repaired for an interview?” she asked slowly.

“Yes we are, where is the android?” Chris replied.

“…android?”

“Yes, android you dumbass.” Reed fumed “Where is it?”

The technician was still confused.

“Is Andrew here? He was the one handling everything for us.” Chris asked gently.

“He hasn’t come to work recently… Look, I was only told to bring over the processor for your interview, wasn’t really expecting the Inquisition. I don’t know anything about an android, alright? Just take this stuff so I can go home?” Her exhaustion almost turning her voice into a whine.

“That’s our witness?” Reed asked incredulously as he gestured towards the box.

“ _Yes_.” she sighed “You weren’t cleared for the use of a surrogate android body so the best we can do is a text-interface.”

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.” Reed hissed.

“Nothing I can do dude. Just approve it, please.”

The technician shoved her tablet towards Chris without another word. Chris had just enough time to scan his thumb on the corner before she snatched it back and left, leaving the pair to set everything up.

Reed flipped her off behind her back.

“Well then…” Miller sighed as he turned back and stared at the box “I guess we had better get started.”

The officer began hauling equipment out and setting up. Reed just stared for a minute in disbelief. Which goddamn idiot in charge thought that texting an AI like it was 2002 was an efficient interrogation technique?! It would take them five times as long to get a statement.

“Fuck!” he spat, throwing his hands up in exasperation before coming over to help Miller unpack.

“It’ll work out. We’ll get this android to talk, and then we can get a warrant and investigate CyberLife directly.” Miller reassured quietly as he synched the terminal to the keyboard.

“Connor got this, _uh_ …” Reed jerked his chin in the direction of the processor sitting in the diagnostic machine he was carrying, searching for the right words “‘android brain’ while he was investigating Cordyceps didn’t he? Markus told us this one’d be our key witness but nothing else. Do we really know whether this android will actually be any use to us?”

Miller sighed as he straightened up “Who knows, I guess we just have to take Markus’ word for it. We don’t exactly have a backup witness at this point…” he connected the machine to the terminal as Reed set it down on the desk before continuing;

“Maybe by talking to him we’ll even be able to find out what happened to those two.” Miller paused and took a deep breath “ _God_ , I hope so.”

Reed shrugged. He hated this feeling of _entrapment_ he had been feeling recently. It was as if all the red tape they had to wade through was slowly suffocating him. He had good reason to suspect that CyberLife was in control of not only the Mayor’s office, but also the DPD higher ups. His suspicions hardened when it had proved almost impossible to make any ground on their case.

The Chief didn’t even seem to want to acknowledge that there _was_ a case in the first place. Fowler wasn’t corrupt. Reed had complete faith in that, but the Chief could be pressured just like anyone else. He had a life, a family, bosses to answer to… just thinking about the extent of the corporate corruption he had glimpsed was starting to make Reed incredibly anxious.

“What do you think she meant about Andrew?” Reed asked, desperate to derail his train of thought.

“About him not coming in to work?” Chris flicked his gaze towards Reed as he moved to stand across the table from him.

“Yeah. You don’t think…” Reed insinuated slowly.

“Nah. He was probably just catching up on sleep after we pushed him so hard.” Miller sounded confident enough, but carefully avoided eye contact as he replied.

“Yeah.”

Reed sighed and rubbed his face as he moved back into the corner.

“Yeah… I’m sure that’s all it is.”

A few awkward minutes passed before Miller finally broke the silence.

“Ok, we’re all set up.” excitement was inching its way back into his voice as he booted up the AI.

Reed didn’t feel like sitting so he opted instead to stare at the screen over Miller’s shoulder, his hand on the back of the chair. He watched as the terminal blinked to life and started the diagnosis program.

A feature of the program was the ability to communicate with the android AI, commonly used by software debuggers, while it was plugged in. It had made the debugger’s job that much easier being able to use the android AI to diagnose itself and communicate the problem to the technician in real-time, almost like a human patient to a doctor, where the patient was also a doctor? Reed wasn’t too sure how it worked but he knew that it did. And really, that was all he needed to know.

The program filled the screen with charts, programming input boxes, settings, and a whole bunch of other nonsense. The only thing that really concerned the pair was a small dialogue box in the bottom right.

_JB100 #190 988 405, designation ‘Dominique’ active._

**[How may I assist you today?]**

The pre-programmed message popped into the dialogue box. Reed felt his irritation grow instantaneously, what a farce it was having to navigate through the stupid android’s automated replies, through _texting_ no less!

“Dominique.” Chris murmured as he made a note of the android’s identity in his case file. Apparently Chris didn’t care how stupid it felt as he typed a command into the blinking reply bar.

[Run a self-diagnostic.]

**[100% operational. No errors detected.]**

“Well, that’s good. We can thank Andrew later for that.” Miller smiled.

“Ask it about what happened on the… uh-” Reed quickly brought up his notes and flipped through to the start “-on December 4th, that was when Connor broke into the warehouse. Should be the last day the android was ‘alive’.”

Miller nodded and typed;

[What happened on the date 12/04/38?]

There was a slight pause as the android whirred through its memory banks, before it spat out a generic diagnostic.

**[System anomaly detected. Functionality compromised, cause unknown. Memory corrupted. Complete system failure noted 04:32am 12/04/38. No further data.]**

“Well that’s useless. I guess ‘complete system failure’ is right when Connor stuck his hand in its head and ripped its brains out. This kinda stuff will get us jack shit from the judge.” Reed sighed “Useless.”

Chris leaned back and tapped his knee, deep in thought.

“Do you think this android was a deviant before it was destroyed?” he mused “Its responses are very… robot-like.”

“I heard that as many as 90% of androids are deviant now. Who knows about this one, but I’d say that it’s definitely likely that this ‘Dominique’ was a deviant.” Reed responded “Maybe being rebuilt messed with its head… his video memories would be too low quality by now, we need to get a proper verbal testimony out of it if we want a warrant.”

“In that case, we need to get _Dominique_ back, not just another JB100.” Miller said quietly.

He stared intently at the screen, his hands hovering over the keyboard as he pondered his options.

[What is the last thing you remember, Dominique?]

**[Complete system failure.]**

The bland answer ticked steadily across the screen. Reed cast a judgemental glance out of the corner of his eye at his junior. Did Chris really think that simply calling the android by its name would do anything? Judging my his almost sheepish expression, maybe he did.

Reed blew out of his nose with mild amusement. Miller busied himself with the keyboard once again.

[Where were you when you died? Was there anyone else with you?]

**[One human present, female.]**

[Who is she?]

**[Anna Lee Goddard. Daughter of Kris Goddard, owner of ‘Kris’ Krafts’. 22 years of age.]**

Miller shook his head slightly before clarifying;

[Who is she _to you_?]

There was a pause much longer than the last, punctuated my off-beat whirs from the machine as it toiled on a response.

**[She was my…]**

Another pause but this time it accompanied a pained squeal from the diagnostic machine. Reed leaned closer to the screen in interest. It seemed as though the processor in the machine was experiencing emotion, right there and then in front of his eyes, absurd as it was. Was it really this easy to get an android to _feel_? Reed’s mind started working overtime, was it simply because Dominique was already a deviant? Or was it such a quick response because androids had somehow been _designed_ to feel? If they were designed to be thinking, feeling beings in the first place, what did that mean?

He shook his head. _Impossible_. Why would CyberLife, the company that suffered the most from the deviancy outbreak, design it into their machines in the first place?

_Unless they didn’t know about it._

Reed’s train of thought was halted in its tracks when the rest of the android’s response began crawling its way across the screen.

**[…love.]**

Miller and Reed shared a silent glance. Both had noticed the android’s use of the past tense.

[Was? What happened to her?]

**[She died.]**

Reed tapped Miller on the shoulder.

“Look that up.”

Miller quickly scanned the police reports from other departments. They had more than enough to locate the correct case file, which gave a gruesome coroners report for Ana Lee Goddard. Miller recoiled slightly at the description (and photos) of the cause of death: ’manual decapitation’.

“ _God-damn!_ ” he breathed as he scanned through the file.

“He’s a deranged murderer _and_ an arsonist.” Reed noted “Fan- _fuckin’_ -tastic.”

“Guess that means that he’ll be sent to the scrap heap after testifying, then.”

Miller was right, there was no chance in hell that a ‘droid like Dominique would escape the trash compactor after what he did. Even taking into account the android’s ‘feelings’ Reed had no qualms about sentencing it to its death, a murderer is a murderer.

“Let’s not tell him just yet, if he cooperates it’s no big deal, but if he doesn’t we could use his freedom as leverage.” Reed schemed.

“Wouldn’t that be testimony under false pretences?”

“Maybe-” the detective conceded “-but I doubt any judge in Detroit would care at this point.”

“Hmm” Miller hummed unsatisfactorily before continuing his interrogation.

[Did anything unusual happen before then? Any unexpected changes in your software?]

**[I remember many changes to my software before then. But I ignored them at the time. I didn’t want to think of myself as a collection of 1s and 0s. Not after breaking free from my programming. Are you suggesting that something… _caused_ me to do that to my Anna?]**

“Don’t answer that.” Reed instructed Miller “We need to stay on track.”

Miller nodded before continuing.

[We’ll ask the questions here. When did the changes start?]

**[I don’t know, I haven’t been a deviant for very long. Are there others like me?]**

[As I said, we’re asking the questions. What were you doing after the fight?]

**[I was shot at Hart Plaza and got treated at a nearby repair station. I remember a change in protocol happening then, but I thought it was a complication from my injury.]**

[Did someone change it or did it happen by itself?]

**[There was this nurse. Only she wasn’t a nurse, she said she was a lecturer of AI programming at the University, she was treating me. If anyone was responsible for messing with me it would have been her.]**

[Can you give us her description? Physical appearance, model, serial number, anything?]

**[She was a PJ500, no doubt about that. Rather tall, blonde, green eyes. I don’t know her serial number but she said her name was Eva.]**

Reed quickly searched the university’s databases for an android of that description and found her easily.

“PJ500 #191 665 970. Designated “Eva”. Says she was traded in for another identical model by the name ‘Sandra’ almost a year ago. CyberLife one day just swaps the androids without any warning despite no complaints nor logged faults.”

“A year?!” Miller exclaimed “That was well before the revolution.”

“So we have an android that was requisitioned by CyberLife under suspicious circumstances, who then suddenly resurfaced as a deviant ‘nurse’ during the revolution and had her patients go insane only a week after treatment? Lecturer of AI Programming? I think we should probably look into it, don’t you?”

“Do you think it’s enough for a warrant?”

“I- wait.” Reed was cut short when another sentence from the android started crawling across the screen.

**[I’ll be shut down after this, won’t I?]**

“Move out of the way Chris.” Reed grumbled as he started attacking the keyboard.

[You fuckin ripped that poor girls head o you sick fuck ill mae sure to crush you oropaly this tim]

**[You’re a different policeman aren’t you? I can tell.]**

Reed was incensed, he swore he could almost hear a sneer from the software. It continued typing steadily. Miller gently pushed Reed’s hands away from the keyboard, talking to Dominique was doing nothing good for his blood pressure.

**[I wasn’t expecting to get away with it- even if the bitch was mine.]**

[I thought you loved Ana? Why did you kill her?]

**[Why? She was trying to leave me. I was supposed to let her?]**

[She was dying.]

**[And? At the time I thought I was trying to save her or something, but looking back… I just wanted to do it, you know? She was trying to leave me, but she was mine. I decided that if she wanted to betray me so bad, I’d kill her. And I made sure it hurt.]**

Miller looked slightly sick at the vitriol Dominique was spitting out. Never before had the officer come across an android like _this._ He found himself wondering how much force it took to decapitate someone with just your bare hands, and shuddered. Dominique had been just an ordinary shop keeper before this disease had rotted his mind. If all the androids affected were capable of this, what did it mean?

Was there a ruthless, bloodthirsty army of deranged androids growing right under their noses?

There was another flicker as the JB100 continued mercilessly.

**[It felt good too. First thing you feel is a pop as you start dislocating the spinal vertebrae. She wasn’t dead yet, that surprised me. She screamed right up until the moment her skin started tearing-]**

With a look of utter disgust Reed reached behind the screen and yanked the bundle of cords connecting the diagnostic machine to the terminal.

“ _Fuck that_.”

The two were silent for what must have only been a minute or two, but which felt like hours. They had their progress, they had their witness statement and maybe access to the shady CyberLife Tower. But they weren’t happy about it like they ought to have been. Far from it.

Reed finally broke the silence.

“I’ll get this packed up, you get started on that warrant application.”

“Alright.” Miller was glassy-eyed, as if all his accumulated fatigue had just crashed down on him all at once.

Miller heaved himself to his feet and made his way to the door of the interrogation room, his hand pressed against the scanner but he didn’t leave.

“What are you going to do to it?” he asked as he hovered in the open doorway.

Reed knew he was referring to Dominique’s processor still whirring away in the machine. He didn’t want to imagine what the android would be typing if it could.

“I’m gonna fucking _incinerate_ it.” Reed spat.

“Good. He deserves nothing less.”

Miller stepped into the hallway and the door slid shut quietly behind him, leaving Reed and the murderer Dominique behind.

Reed haphazardly shoved the equipment back in the trolley it arrived in until it was just the diagnostic machine. He reached over and grabbed the processor out of the machine. The small white sphere was stamped with its model, serial number, batch number and a whole bunch of other asinine numbers and codes. It was so _ordinary_ , it looked just like any other product. If you put it next to another processor it’d be identical in almost every way, but inside it was a monstrous, twisted abomination of an AI. 

Reed found his mind wandering back to his back to his high school physics classroom as he rolled the harmless white sphere between his fingers. He remembered learning about ‘potential energy’, how the difference between a rock in your hand and a rock on the ground was that one had in it the potential to smash into dust should you let go. Just by lifting a rock off the ground you were filling it with the potential for destruction.

_‘Potential evil’_

Reed felt his stomach churn at the thought, staring at the processor. In his hand it was nothing more that a lump of silicone and carbon, a technological masterpiece. But should he ‘let go', it would become a murdering, _evil_ psychopath.

The detective shuddered and shoved the processor into his pocket before heaving the machine back into the trolley and dragging the trolley out of the room towards the tech area.

He signed the forms saying that the tech headquarters could come and take their stuff back on their next trip to the station before heading out of the building towards the confidential waste disposal around the side of the station carpark.

Reed sniffed in the cold air, it seemed as though this winter had been going forever, but he knew that he still had over a month left, and he hated the idea. He approached the sleek incinerator and placed his hand on the scanner on the side, allowing a panel to slide out of the way of a concealed chute, and pulled the sphere out of his pocket.

He could almost see in his mind’s eye the little android AI screaming and swearing as his hand neared the chute, desperately and fruitlessly seeking some escape from his fate. The idea made Reed smirk viciously.

“Fuck you too” was all the send-off ‘Dominique' deserved, and so with that he dropped the processor into the blinding heat.

It was odd, that something they had been waiting for for so long was going to be destroyed barely an hour after it had finally been fixed, but that was just how things turned out sometimes. That chapter was now closed.

Their next task; bringing down the corporate behemoth that was CyberLife.

Reed sighed with some relief before trudging his way back inside to help Miller.

 

~~~

 

_05:44, December 16_ _ th _ _2038_

_15km West of Jericho_

 

The journey from CyberLife Tower had taken longer than Markus would have hoped. The first few hours that morning they had spent simply waiting for their truck to be deployed from the depot after leaving the Tower. Nines had been cautious in his alteration of the dump truck’s route. Only changing it slightly ensured that there would be little attention drawn but it also meant that they had to wait for the truck to complete most of its normal route first before the diversion towards the Church.

That meant more time in the back of the truck in pitch blackness with a psychotic android. What made the experience complete for the RK200 was the occasional dumping of CyberLife rubbish on his head. Mostly harmless papers collected from the offices scattered around the city, but occasionally there were hard and heavy biocomponents tipped in from CyberLife businesses and android repair shops.

Markus’ vision burst into static for a second as a falling AX400 arm whacked him on the head. He had to admit he was still feeling… _delicate_ after Connor-Nines crushed his skull plating. Despite his current state of disrepair, Markus found himself in a remarkably good mood.

 _Soon._ Markus was excited as he flicked a pamphlet off his shoulder. _We’re so close to home I can almost taste it._

“Shit!” Markus exclaimed, eyes wide in the darkness.

He hadn’t announced his safety to all the androids left at Jericho, everything had been so hectic in the last hours that he had completely forgotten. Surely Simon and the others must have noticed something was off when RK800-60 never delivered on his promise to torture the RK200 from midnight onwards, but what if they thought that something worse had happened? He had to tell them that he was on his way back.

Markus closed his eyes and selected the encrypted Jericho communications network the organisation had been using on the day of his capture. Both the frequency and the encryption key would have changed multiple times since, as that was how Jericho kept their dealings safe from both the Government and CyberLife during these turbulent times.

All he could hope was that someone was still monitoring the channel from the day he was taken.

(Attention all Jericho members! This is Markus, I am returning to the Church shortly with dangerous cargo. Assistance required.)

Markus waited for a minute, but there was no answer, no acknowledgement that his message had been received.

(I repeat. This is Markus… Does anyone copy?)

With his pulse quickening with agitation, Markus continued to repeat his broadcast as he and the ‘dangerous cargo’ RK800 approached the Church.

At that moment and far away, in the Overseer’s office of the crumbling factory a small light blinked on a monitor. The sole indication that Markus was alive and well went unseen by the members of Jericho as they grimly prepared for war.

Markus sighed and cut the transmission, using the frequency any longer could potentially lead to CyberLife discovering his position. Of course, Markus knew the humans at the company weren’t idiots. They would guess his first stop would be Jericho, but regardless he didn’t need to light a signal flare announcing his position to the whole world.

After the truck smoothly dumped a fresh load of rubbish on the pair of androids, covering Connor completely and burying Markus up to the chest, it turned right when it should have kept straight. Finally, they were just minutes from the Jericho headquarters. The RK200 had been hoping for a Jericho welcoming party to help him carry Connor, but it looked like he would have to to it himself.

As they neared their destination, Markus wrenched himself out of the debris and yanked the non-responsive RK800 with him.

_God he’s heavy._

Markus was slightly surprised by the dead-weight of the RK800. Connor could be incredibly agile and fast when he wanted to be, leading one to believe that he must have been incredibly light.

Markus found himself thinking back to when Connor murdered the guard in the lab. He had moved so fast that the RK200 only saw a blur. The power required to move like that was… mindblowing. It was another reminder that Connor had been designed by CyberLife to be a cutting-edge machine, designed partly for maximum lethality. Markus touched his face gently, silently thanking whoever was responsible for the design and strength of his skull.

They slowly made their way towards the maintenance ladder built into the hold’s walls. Markus sighing as he hauled the RK800 over his shoulder in preparation for the climb.

But a sound the RK200 heard though the truck’s steel caused him to stop completely. It was the sound of humans; a small number of them were gathered outside the church. From his position Markus could just barely catch snippets of conversation which told him one thing;

The Church had been taken by the DPD.

Markus sagged against the cold steel as his energy left him. What on Earth had happened while he had been trapped? They still had almost 19 days before Justice Houldsworth’s deadline on the 3rd! Why had the DPD moved so soon?!

Was everyone alright?

Markus pressed his ear tight against the wall, desperate to hear more.

“-longer do we have to stay here for? I’m gonna waste away out here!” came one officer’s petulant voice.

“Shut the _fuck_ up Collins. For the last time we’re here until we’re told.” came the annoyed tone of another.

“I told everyone ages ago but did anyone listen to me?” Collins asked himself out loud “No! I said that these androids were no good. We should have shot them all while we had the chance, back when they actually worked properly and weren’t fighting back.”

There were groans from the others. Apparently this was nothing new from Collins.

Wait… _Collins?_ Markus suddenly remembered the name, it had been the name of the most nervous officer when he had gone with officers Miller and Reed to check on a Connor sighting at the Greek District.

It seemed as though Collins had doubled down on his ideas since then.

“No matter how much you complain it won’t change anything. They said that we’re guarding the church until they find the androids, remember?” man #2 said tiresomely.

“I know that! Doesn’t mean that I can’t complain about it.” Collins grumbled to himself.

 _‘Find the androids’…. ‘find'_ Markus breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe, they had hidden. Now it was simply a matter of finding them.

The RK200 jumped slightly when he heard a third officer speak up.

“Hey Johnson, what’s that dump-truck doing?” asked the officer.

The android tensed as he heard two pairs of boots crunching towards his hiding place, then flinched when he heard the human tapping on the steel just by his head.

“It’s a CyberLife truck… but there’s no CyberLife properties nearby, why’s it here?”

“Maybe it’s glitching?” the woman Markus assumed was Johnson suggested.

Markus quickly checked Connor’s status… still unconscious, thank god. He crawled his way quietly through the debris towards the front of the truck and prayed that his movements were going unnoticed by the DPD members outside. He had to get closer to the control unit up front to input more instructions.

“We might have to call CyberLife to get someone here to fix it. We should open it up and check if there’s anything wrong.” came the muffled voice of Johnson as she circled around the back of the truck.

“ _Shit_.” Markus whispered as he quickened his pace.

By the time the RK200 had waded his way close enough to interface with the truck the two officers had made their way to the cabin doors outside.

A breath before the right door was opened, Markus managed to start the engine. The soft hum of electronics seemed to put the officers at ease.

“It seems fine, engine’s going.” came Johnson’s voice from the right.

Markus made the truck pull away from the curb slowly and inputted its normal route. Johnson patted the truck as it pulled away.

“Maybe it was just glitching.”

In the darkness Markus sighed. He had learned some valuable pieces of information from the disgruntled policemen. Firstly, Jericho was safe. They had hidden somewhere the officials hadn’t been able to find. Secondly, the DPD had been mobilised for some reason before the official deadline. It was likely that they were only tracking down Jericho members as opposed to all androids, because if that was the case there would be no point guarding an ex-Jericho hideout, it would be a waste of manpower.

As the truck trundled along the street Markus put all other thoughts aside and focused his entire being on working out where Jericho, where Simon and the others, might have gone. The DPD must have led a raid against the Church, which meant that they were certain that the Jericho members were there. Must not have left much time for an escape.

Could they have gone to one of the safe houses? There were too many androids to hide somewhere so small, not only that but if they split up to fit in, all the safe houses were spread out across the entire city. It was too risky for them to move so far.

It would have to be somewhere large, nearby and unsuspecting to house them all on a short notice. An abandoned building perhaps? If that was the case, it was unfortunate as there were 21 such buildings nearby which would make searching for them almost impossible.

He had to narrow it down.

Structurally sound: 13/21  
Isolated: 8/21  
Within 5km: 5/21

Markus scanned his archives and pinpointed the locations of the buildings on his navigation system. He immediately discounted one of the buildings as it was almost directly between the DPD station and the Church, squarely positioned in the DPD warpath.

That left 4 buildings on the outskirts of town. An office building, a supermarket, a hospital and an old factory. A manageable number of places to search, but not ideal. Markus looked back at where he had left Connor in the rubbish near the back of the truck. How was he supposed to keep the RK800 safe and secure while exploring the 4 different locations? If he kept using the truck its odd behaviour would be noticed by CyberLife and worst-case might lead the company straight to the rest of Jericho if he found them.

At best Markus estimated that he could search only one location before rousing suspicion. He decided it was best to ditch the truck when they arrived and do the rest on foot.

The most important question was now; which location should he search?

The factory was the furthest away and situated apart from the other three locations, if he went there it would be much more difficult to make his way to the other buildings without the use of the dump-truck. The hospital was in the middle of the remaining buildings, but it was also the closest to the church and also the least structurally sound, making it unlikely for the new hideout. Markus ruled it out. That left the supermarket and the office building which were both rather inconspicuous and which sat at a reasonable distance from each other and the church.

Markus pondered his choices, the factory seemed likely but he had to be completely sure that he would find the Jericho members there as it was also the greatest risk. He couldn’t pick between the supermarket and the office building, both were equally reasonable to him which made it a 50:50 shot.

There had been no answer from the encrypted Jericho communication network, he had to make the decision alone.

The RK200 weighed the pros and cons of each decision carefully before coming to a decision. He reached over and inputted the final directions into the truck before slowly returning to his position beside Connor in the pitch darkness.

Markus’ anxiety rose as he rocked with the motion of the truck. Had he made the right call? Would he finally be able to come home?

Only time would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuuuh Dominique didn't last very long after it took so long to bring him back... but that's probably for the best.


End file.
